End Game
by iluvtorun
Summary: Oliver makes some rash decisions and suspects there is much more to Isabel than she is letting on. M for language and adult situations. Arrow belongs to DC and CW. Spoilers for S2, starts after 2x09 and takes its own path but parallels some of the current story line.
1. Mistake

_End Game_

_AN: Happy New Year! So, I don't even know what this is . . . it was an idea that popped into my head when speculation about a possible Olicity kiss was flying around, and then got wildly out of hand after Steven Amell's comment about a sex scene involving "something new" for Oliver. I don't even know where this is headed, so bear with me. And, yeah, sorry, you will understand soon enough . . . Suffice to say Oliver's head is a messed up place. The first part is rather cheesy and trope-ish, so I apologize for that. I don't do M fics often, but this one is def an M fic, and definitely out of my usual comfort zone. This first chapter is angsty and just . . . ugh, you'll see. _

Chapter 1-Mistake

It all happened because he made a mistake. He let his guard down, and made a simple, human slip that had repercussions he couldn't have imagined. 2013 had been a long and terrible year, after all. The Glades had fallen. Tommy had died. He had fled to Lian Yu, a place he had never imaged he would have willingly return to. Laurel hardly spoke to him. Felicity had almost died at the hands of the Count. Diggle had almost been trapped in a Russian prison. The _Mirakuru_ was back in play, and Roy had been injected. They had no new leads on the man in the skull mask. Yet another person knew of his secret.

That last one had a bit to do with why things happened the way he did. Barry Allen was right; he _had_ been a jerk to Felicity after she had brought Barry in to save his life. He had even apologized, and as usual she seemed to forgive him. Sometimes he thought she would forgive him anything, and that gave him pause. She shouldn't forgive him. She should leave. He was lost in that space between wishing she would, and simultaneously praying she wouldn't. He had felt entirely _too much_ as she had stood toe to toe with him, arguing her decision to let Barry in on his secret in order to save his life; too much as she stood there and asked him to promise to come back—something he couldn't bring himself to do, because she was the one person he couldn't lie to. He felt too much as he thought about the look in her eyes as he had mentioned Shado's name, and too much when she had flown into his arms after he had returned from fighting Cyrus Gold. There was a part of him that wanted more—things he should not want, _could not want_ for her safety. Or his sanity.

So after the incident with Gold, he had imposed some space between himself and the rest of his team. There was just too many raw emotions and things left unsaid between all of them. They had finished out the week, and then he gave Felicity and Diggle a solid two weeks off Arrow duties, instructing Felicity to contact him if she found anything useful on the man in the skull mask. Oliver Queen took a few weeks off from the office to spend time with his family. Because of those things, he hadn't seen Felicity for over two weeks. And God help him, but he had _missed _her. He shouldn't have, but he did.

By the time the New Year's Eve party at Verdant rolled around, he felt like he was unraveling in the worst way. His emotions were raw from spending the first Christmas in a reality where his best friend was dead. He felt run ragged from watching Roy carefully for signs of rage, and worrying that he might do something to hurt Thea. Not to mention the lack of sleep, as he worried about nightmares and ghosts and dreams of things he couldn't have. He was confused as to why he longed to pick up the phone and call Felicity, simply to hear her voice, when he knew that it was unsafe for him to feel that way about her. It was in that state that he bumped into Felicity on Verdant's dance floor. And made the mistake that would have such far-reaching consequences.

He had been walking toward the front door, needing a respite from the noise and the endless wall of bodies when he collided into her. He instinctively reached out a hand to her elbow to steady the woman he collided with, not realizing who it was. "Oh, sorry," she said, looking up. "Stupid shoes. . . " Her voice trailed off as she met his eyes, and he realized it was Felicity.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, harsher than he had intended. He was surprised to see her. And relieved, because those raw edges that had been plaguing him incessantly felt immediately soothed. That didn't make any sense, because he could not allow himself to feel that way about anyone.

"Umm . . ." She said, biting her lip. "Thea invited me?" She searched his eyes and frowned, apparently not liking what she saw there. " Are you okay Oliver?"

He took her elbow and ushered her toward the club's entry way, where it was quieter and much less crowded. He stopped and turned her to face him. "This doesn't seem like your scene," he said matter-of-factly. God, he _was _a jerk.

She looked down at his shoes. She looked lovely, wearing a short, glittery green dress he had never seen before. She had her contacts in, and her hair was swept up and off her shoulders. "I was worried about you," she confessed gently, still looking at the ground. "I hadn't heard from you, and Digg said he hadn't seen you. And whenever I stop by the Foundry, you aren't there either. Then Thea called, and I figured . ." She trailed off, and looked up at him. "You didn't answer me, Oliver. Are you okay?"

He sighed, and shrugged. He couldn't lie to her with a damn. "It's good to see you," he admitted, and he immediately felt guilty as she smiled at him. Guilty because he shouldn't feel this overwhelming relief from seeing her. _It was not safe_. He repeated it like a mantra, but because he was at his root, a selfish creature, the desire to have her close, to not feel the darkness that was overwhelming him, won out over the voice of reason. He leaned against the wall and asked her something inconsequential, simply to hear her talk. And then before he knew what was happening, he could hear the crowd in the club counting down. And he was leaning toward her. It wasn't a conscious thing, and later he would wonder how he could have let it happen. At the time though, he hadn't given it any thought. He just knew that he felt _whole_ with her there, and he missed feeling whole. It felt like he hadn't felt whole in a long, long time.

Her eyes grew big as he moved in. "Oliver . . ." she said, and there was a question in her voice. She placed her hands on his chest, and there was a slight pressure there, as if she wasn't sure this was a good idea. He rested his forehead against hers, and she was so close, it took his breath away. He could feel the rightness of being close with her in his bones at that moment. He whispered her name, and it occurred to him that it sounded like a prayer, or a promise, as it came out of his lips. A look of surprise, shock and something else he couldn't name came into her eyes as she looked into his, and then he was kissing her, as the people in the club yelled "Happy New Year."

Light exploded behind his eyes and it felt so right, more right than anything he had ever done in his life. In that moment, he couldn't think of the long list of reasons he had compiled as to why he shouldn't want her. He simply knew that he wanted her. She clung to him for a moment, and then pushed herself back from him, one hand moving to her lips. "Um . . . " He moved to take a step toward her, already missing the warmth of her touch. He didn't like the look of disbelief in her eyes—after the way he had been feeling lately, he couldn't understand why she was surprised. She put a finger of her other hand up, stopping him. She closed her eyes for a long moment. As he waited her out, he started remembering all the reasons that _this _was a bad idea. He hurt people. And people would hurt her, just to get to him.

"Felicity," he said slowly, not even sure what he would say to her.

She spoke to him, keeping her eyes closed. "I'm not that girl, Oliver," she said slowly. She finally opened her eyes, searching his face. She looked so innocent, and he reminded himself again of all of the reasons that this shouldn't happen. But _God_, he wanted her, wanted them. "I can't go here, and then pretend it didn't happen."

He looked at her, completely conflicted, frozen in place. And he knew, from the look of disappointment in her eyes, that it wasn't the response she needed. "Happy New Year, Oliver," she said. Then she turned, and she was gone. He leaned back against the wall, letting his head fall back as he exhaled. He had no idea to reconcile all the things warring inside him. When the noise in his head became too much, he pushed off the wall and headed to the basement. He had avoided the space for the past few weeks, seeking to avoid the memories of his ghosts, of Felicity asking him to promise to come back, of her running into his arms. But now he needed the exhaustion that came from working out. He didn't want to think, didn't want to feel. So he focused instead on his breathing, his actions, and the simple act of where his fist would hit the training dummy next. Hours later, long after the club had quieted, he took the bottle of Russian vodka from Yao Fe's ammunition box and sat down on the mats, allowing himself to become more drunk than he had in years. He found his way home after the sun had risen, and slept away most of the first day of the New Year.

Despite his uncertainty about what was happening with Felicity, it wasn't until the following morning that he truly considered that kiss a mistake. It had felt too right for him to call it a mistake. When Diggle showed up at his front door to take him to the office, he wordlessly shoved a tabloid paper in his hands. He knew, just from the look of annoyance in Digg's eyes, what it was. He opened it, and saw a grainy picture of him kissing Felicity. And, _dammit all_, it identified her by name. His jaw clenched, and he looked up at Digg. Digg just stared back, eyebrow raised. Without a word, the older man turned and headed back out the door, leaving Oliver to stew as he followed him out to the car.

xxx

Things were busy at the office, after the long holiday break, and while he saw Felicity regularly, Oliver didn't get a moment alone with her. Which was really a good thing, because he didn't have a clue what he would say to her. Had she seen the article? Did she realize that it made her even more of a target than ever? He sighed, and shifted in his chair, attempting to focus on the presentation being given by the head of marketing. The day dragged on, a parade of endless meeting. Even lunch was during a meeting. As Oliver ushered the last round of people out of his conference room, he saw that Felicity's desk was empty, her computer off for the day. Apparently whatever they needed to say to each other would be said at the Foundry tonight before they returned to their extra-curricular evening activities.

He was grabbing his things and preparing to meet Digg downstairs when Isabel Rochev swooped into his office. He groaned internally. He could guess what she was here about. Indeed, she closed the door behind her and threw the tabloid onto his desk, eyebrow raised in a challenge.

He sighed. "It was just a New Year's kiss," he said, and tried to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach as he said the words. She was so much more than that. He realized was going to be more convincing, especially with Isabel, if he wanted anyone to believe there was nothing between him and Felicity. As much as he was realizing that he wanted there to be, he reminded himself again that it was not safe for her. Being with him would make her even more of a target than she already was to his enemies.

"This isn't good for the company Oliver," she started. Oliver tilted his head to the side, pasting his "Oliver Queen" face on. He wondered again why she cared, and what her interests were in Queen Consolidated. Because he was absolutely certain there was something more going on there—which was one of the reasons it was imperative Isabel not realize that Felicity's importance, in the Arrow's life or Oliver Queen's.

"She's _still_ just a friend," he said. "It was just a kiss, nothing more. I kiss a _lot_ of women."

Her eyes dropped to his lips. _Shit_, he thought, this again. She stepped toward him and fiddled with his tie. "Prove it," she challenged. He internally sighed. She was a beautiful woman, but he discovered in Russia that she held no real interest for him. Not to mention he had no real desire to see that look of disappointment in Felicity's eyes if she found out that he slept with her again. He started to make an excuse, but Isabel cut him off. "Unless, of course, your assistant really has you as wrapped around her finger as everyone in this office seems to think."

He had that same bad feeling that had been niggling him about Isabel for quite some time, except now it was amplified a thousand times over. Her interest in his involvement with Felicity, her interest in QE, and her mother's innate distrust of her, paired with other things he knew about her—things he hadn't mentioned to Digg or Felicity-made his decision for him. He couldn't allow her to think Felicity meant as much to him as she actually did. So he stepped in to her, made a scoffing sound, and crushed his lips down on hers as he pulled her to him. Never mind that he was kissing her with the same lips he had kissed Felicity with just days before.

He tried not to think about the explosion of light and feeling and had felt when he had kissed Felicity, which was more certainly _not _happening now. He couldn't allow himself to think about any of that. This was a necessary means to an end. He pushed her back against the desk, and she growled appreciatively at him. At least, with Isabel, there was no need for words. She was happy simply with the act. He lifted her skirt, and did the things she expected. He did his duty well, and simply turned his mind off.

Isabel chuckled unexpectedly as he was thrusting into her, holding on to his shoulder as she leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "Mmm, time to _really _prove it_," _she said, and he felt his heart drop at the vindictive pleasure in her voice. He didn't need to glance over his should to know what . . . _who_ . . . Isabel was looking at, but he stupidly did it anyway. Felicity stood frozen at the entryway in from the elevators, mouth agape. Her eyes flew to meet his, and then she was spinning on her heel before he could fully register the shock in her eyes. And yes, the disappointment had been there too, again.

Isabel wrapped her leg around his hip, her high heel digging into his calf as she ground back against him, reminding him what he was currently doing. "What will it be, _Mr. Queen_," she taunted. "Go after your sweet secretary, or make me come?" Oliver wanted to go after Felicity. He truly did. But the tone in Isabel's acerbic tone told him that he was absolutely right, there was more to her than she was letting on, and since the damage was already done, he might as well play the act out to the end. He turned and kissed her again, tamping down the part of him that screamed this was wrong-the wrong woman, the wrong thing to be doing.

As soon as it was over, he glanced at his phone. Several missed calls from Felicity, which was probably what had brought her here, and another from Diggle. He sighed theatrically. "It looks as if I need to go. My sister needs help with something at the club."

Isabel smoothed her hands over her dress and shrugged, smiling at him. Oliver turned, and headed through the door as calmly as he could. He finally allowed himself to think about all that had just happened, and the damage that he was certain he had done. This evening was bound to be infinitely more unpleasant than the entire day combined. All because he had allowed himself to kiss Felicity, and they had been photographed. He knew it had been a mistake, but all he could think about in that moment was how angry and hurt she was probably feeling in that moment. He tried to remind himself that he had done it to keep her safe, to make sure that no one knew how important she was to him, but the words felt hollow, even in his head


	2. Need to Know

_AN: I think you guys know how I role by now . . . Sorry about the whole Isabel thing. Like I said, I dunno. And now, some Digg. Because I love him. TV line says another Digg-centric episode is coming, YAY! Sorry for the crassness of the subject matter, but well, ya' know. There are only so many ways to describe it. _

Chapter 2 – Need to Know

John Diggle looked questioning at Felicity as she stomped out of the Queen Consolidated elevator and into the lobby where he was waiting for Oliver, not more than five minutes after she had gone upstairs. She looked flustered and very upset. He moved to step toward her, but she threw her entire hand, palm open and fingers splayed, toward his face. "NOT. ONE. WORD!" She said succinctly. "And if I were you, I would NOT go up there." Without a backward glance, she stormed through the lobby and into the cold evening air.

What the hell? Felicity had come to tell Oliver some new information she had apparently found out about the man in the skull mask, after failing to reach him by phone. He didn't know what she had found, but apparently she had deemed it worth the return trip to Queen Consolidated. He was surprised Oliver hadn't answered the phone, because when Digg had left him upstairs earlier, he thought that Oliver was almost done for the day and that they would be heading to the Foundry to return to their "extracurricular" activities.

Both Felicity and Oliver had been acting off today, and he was certain it had something to do with the grainy picture of two of them kissing in front of Verdant. Felicity had simply looked at the tabloid, nose wrinkled, and shoved it back at him.

"Care to explain?" He'd asked her.

"Nope," she said, popping the p with finality as she turned to type at her computer. That had been the end of that conversation.

Oliver finally came down ten minutes after Felicity. Digg looked at him critically, but Oliver's face was an unreadable mask. He led Oliver out to the car and opened the door for him, then went to get behind the wheel. As he pointed the car toward Verdant, he glanced at Oliver in the rearview. The younger man was staring, eyes glazed, out the window.

"Felicity found something on the man in the mask," he said cautiously.

Oliver looked toward him sharply, as if he had forgotten Digg was in the car. "Is that why she came back?" Oliver asked.

"She didn't talk to you?" Digg asked. He wasn't completely surprised, since Felicity had left in such a huff, but he was really wondering what was going on between his two friends.

Oliver sighed. "I was. . . " Digg waited, but Oliver never finished.

"You want to talk about it?" He asked, finally, because it was clear Oliver wasn't going to go on without prompting.

Oliver was back to staring out the window again. "Isabel and I were . . . having a meeting. On my desk."

Digg almost slammed on the breaks. First, he finds a picture _on the front page of a tabloid_ of Oliver—stoic, "It's-better-that-I-be-alone" Oliver—kissing Felicity. "Are you saying Felicity walked in on you banging Isabel in your office, less than 48 hours after you kissed her? And got _photographed_ kissing her?"

Oliver sighed, and scrubbed his hand over his eyes. "It's . . . complicated."

"Jesus, Oliver!" Digg exclaimed, unable to help himself. "What _were _you thinking? In either case?"

"Can we not do this?" Oliver asked. "It's going to be bad enough . . . " He groaned and leaned his head against rich leather seat, swearing under his breath.

Digg shook his head, and drove in silence the rest of the way to Verdant. He really didn't know what to say, anyway. As he pulled into the lot at Verdant, he noticed Felicity's car wasn't there yet. He glanced to see Oliver frowning as he searched the lot too. As he parked, Digg pushed it all to the back of his mind. Knowing Oliver, whatever this was may never get discussed. However, knowing Felicity, it was possible the shit was going to hit the fan the minute she arrived.

xxx

After allowing herself a good quick cry in the car, because she had stupidly allowed herself to hope that the kiss they had shared had meant something to him too, Felicity went to her favorite coffee shop for a chai tea. Back in her car again, she savored the entire thing before finally heading to the Foundry.

She parked in her usual spot and took a deep breath. So far, she didn't love the direction 2014 was heading in. She bundled her jacket and mentally prepared herself, then opened her door and headed toward the back entrance to the Foundry. She keyed in the code to the door and headed down the stairs, breathing a sigh of relief when she heard the distinctive sound that meant Digg and Oliver were training. At least she wouldn't have to talk to either of them yet. There was a part of her that would have been completely happy to go home and drown her sorrows in ice cream and wine, but she knew that the Arrow had work to do.

She took off her jacket and sat at her desk without looking at the two men training across the room. But less than a minute after she sat down and started scrolling through the new searches she had instituted, she heard a grunt from Oliver and Digg's surprised chuckle, and she involuntarily turned so see that Digg had successfully pinned Oliver to the mat. And then _dammit, _they both looked up and met her eyes. She spun back around, and took a deep breath. Damn her traitorous heart and his gorgeous blue eyes.

"So," Digg said, sounding awkward. "What did you find?" The "you know, earlier, when you came back to the office and saw Oliver screwing Isabel" was left unsaid, but it still hung there, between all of them.

She sighed. "I have been running all of the vehicles that have been in the vicinity of where Oliver has seen the man in the skull mask. We really need a better name for him by the way, that's a mouth full. Anyway, there are several vehicles that frequented the area, and I've been cross-referencing those with vehicles that have visited other medical supply locations. They stole the main things they needed—the blood, the centrifuge, the sedatives, but they don't appear to be stealing the other things, like syringes or other basic medical supplies. And granted, it may not be him, it may just be a grunt or something, but there are only about ten that lit up. And, weirdly enough, one of them is a police cruiser."

Oliver raised an eyebrow at that, placing a hand on her chair out of habit. "Whose?" he asked.

"Officer Daily," she said. "He was with Lance when Gold attacked them and killed his partner. It seems odd, so then I tried to track his cruiser. Most SCPD cars have a GPS tracker in them, but I wasn't able to connect with his. It looks like it's been disabled, and that is super suspicious. I think we should put our own tracker on his car, and see what he has been up to." Which was why she had called Oliver, and then tried to go talk to him—to check with him before she started working on the tech. She groaned as she was assaulted with a mental image of the two of them on his desk. _No, no, no. _She really could have gone her entire life without that mental image.

Her face must have betrayed her emotions because Oliver said her name, and it sounded like an apology. "Felicity . . . "

She actually laughed mirthlessly. "Just, don't, okay Oliver." She exhaled. "Anyway, so, if you guys agree, I'll start on the tech, it shouldn't take more than an hour to complete."

Oliver took a deep breath and tried again. "Felicity . . . "

She spun her chair and looked at him, incredulous. "You _really _want to talk about this?" She asked. "You don't want to talk about anything. Ever!"

Diggle was looking between the two of them with wide eyes, arms crossed over his chest. Oliver looked down at her, and she tried not to let the conflicting emotions she could see in his eyes affect her, but she had never been good at things like that where he was concerned.

"Maybe next time, though, remember that your walls are made of _glass_, because it was bad enough watching her parade out of your hotel room with an unzipped dress. I really didn't need to see that!"

"Felicity . . . " He started again. She looked at him and waited. He didn't continue.

"WHAT?" She finally roared. Her hands flew out to her sides, opened wide to convey her frustration. "What do you need to say so damn badly that justifies you _kissing me_, Oliver, and then screwing her in your office? I don't really care who the hell you sleep with, but I do actually have to work with her, and I have to work _there_, so it's REALLY hard to apply the whole 'what happens in the office stays in the office,' and that didn't really work well for Russia either."

His eyes were sad. "I don't want to lie to you," he said softly. "I _can't_ lie to you."

She threw her hands up in the air and got up, feeling the need to move to pace off her nervous energy. She didn't want to see the conflict, or the sadness in his eyes. She had no clue what he meant and she had to attempt to preserve her sanity. It was all too easy to take the things he said and turn them into something he probably didn't mean. If she was going to keep heart in one piece, she couldn't afford to do that. Digg stepped out of her way, and cleared his throat. "Maybe I should . . . you know, go get us some dinner or something." She glared at him. He quickly spun around and headed up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

"She baited me," Oliver said softly.

"You don't have to explain anything to me, Oliver." She said, shaking her head. She really, _really_ didn't want to know. "I may have asked last time, but I didn't understand then and I doubt I will now."

"I . . . I want you to understand," he said, and he put his hand on her elbow, turning her to look at him. "That kiss . . . it meant a whole lot more to me than anything that went on in that office." She searched his eyes, and found absolute sincerity as those beautiful blues bore intensely into her. She took a deep breath. _Don't be stupid, Felicity. _

But she really, truly didn't understand. She had never understood sex for the sake of sex, and she understood this even less. "Then _why?_" she asked, and she hated the way she sounded as she asked it. She thought she sounded confused and a little desperate.

"There is something else going on with her," he said. "Her interest in the company, something is off with it. And the way she baited me about you, it made me sure of it. So I . . ." he exhaled. "I wanted to make sure that it was absolutely clear that you and I weren't involved."

She froze, narrowing her eyes at him. "Explain what you mean by 'something else going on with her.'" She had a bad, _bad_ feeling about this, and it reminded her of the way Diggle had surreptitiously dropped the little detail that he and Lyla were previously married.

"Isabel is in my father's book, and my mother has acted . . . _strangely_ toward her. She doesn't like her, but she won't tell me anything at all about it, so I think there is more there than she's letting on. I've had a suspicion for awhile. Her interest in Queen Consolidated . . . "

She cut him off. "Stop." Isabel was on the list? She still had all of the names digitized somewhere, from when Walter had originally had her look into the tiny leather bound book. But she hadn't even thought about the list in months, and she certainly hadn't committed any of the names to memory. There were so many. "Did you not think this was something that . . .oh, maybe I should have known?" He looked at her, jaw ticking. "You know, since I work with her all the time too."

"I wasn't sure it was anything," he said slowly. "She was on there for a reason, but I wasn't sure how far her involvement went."

"And I couldn't have possibly helped with that," she said, utterly frustrated with these men and their secrets. "Why is it that you—and Digg too for that matter—operate on need-to-know with me? Like maybe I _don't_ need to know that they woman who has made my life exceedingly unpleasant these past few months may have been involved in the destruction in the Glades."

He sighed, and just watched her as she paced a hole in the floor.

"So what _exactly_ did she say to you that made you decide sleeping with her in the office was the _best _solution?" She immediately regretted the question as soon as it was out of her mouth. She wasn't sure she wanted to know this. She picked up the speed of her pacing.

He reached out and stopped her, gently closing his hand around her wrist. She felt a jolt of electricity as he touched her, and she cursed her heart again for being so stupid. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and then met this gaze. He looked was looking toward her feet, but then angled his eyes up to meet hers, so that he was looking at her through his lashes. "She said that I should prove you didn't have me wrapped around your finger." His jaw worked, and she waited, understanding that he had more to say. "You have to understand, Felicity, I didn't understand that bringing you in as my Executive Assistant would start all these rumors that we were involved. I feel like it painted a target on your back. I just want you to be safe."

She felt her anger dissipate ever so slightly. "Do they have a Hallmark card for that?" She scoffed. "'I screwed her on my desk to keep you safe!'" The edges of Oliver's lips tilted up into the half smile she loved so much. "Your logic sucks, Oliver."

He shrugged, then sighed. "I wish I knew what she was up to." He looked down, and she realized he was still holding her wrist. She pulled it back and wrapped her arms around herself, least she reach out for him.

"Really, Oliver, I'm crushed." She said, adding more levity than she felt to her voice. "You should know me better than that. If you would have _told_ me you thought she was up to something, we'd probably know by now." She sat at her computer and cracked her knuckles. "So what's first, tech for Daily, or dissection of Isabel Rochev's past?"

He moved next to her, and she felt him watching her for a moment. "Tech first," he said, squeezing her shoulder. She set to work, happy to have something to do with her hands. As she worked, Oliver returned to training, and she tried not to think about how much it bothered her that he never talked to her about things until it was absolutely necessary. She supposed the whole need-to-know approach was a defense mechanism, but it didn't make it any less annoying. She thought about his incredulous reaction to her bringing Barry into the fold, in order to save his life. Sometimes she wondered if he really trusted her at all.


	3. We're Not Idiots

Chapter 3 – We're Not Idiots

"All clear." Diggle heard Oliver's voice through the comm link in his ear. "Headed back now." He acknowledged Oliver and then removed the earpiece, looking toward Felicity. She sat at her computers, entirely focused on the task at hand. She was gathering a file—an _actual _physical file—on Isabel Rochev. Felicity normally didn't do files. She would show them what they needed to know on the computer, explaining it as she went.

"He's headed back," he said to her softly. He watched as her shoulders slumped forward and she let out a little sigh. She must have composed herself though, because the shoulders went right back up and she went right back to what she was doing.

"I'm almost done," she said, fingers flying over the keys.

"Felicity, are you sure you don't want to talk?" He could tell that whatever was going on was weighing on her heavily. And if he had to take a stab at it, he suspected there was more going on than just Oliver sleeping with Isabel. Not that this wasn't a big enough issue on its own-Oliver had horrible judgment when it came to women.

Felicity pulled another document from the printer and stuck it in the manila folder, closing it and turning to face him. "There isn't much to say John," she sighed, closing her eyes.

"Oliver is . . . " Digg started, looking for the right words. An idiot with women? Damaged, to the point he was incapable of sharing the darker side of him?

She gave him a half smile, meeting his eyes. He was a little shocked at the sadness and exhaustion he saw in her usually bright eyes. "I know exactly who and what Oliver is. I'm an idiot for not remembering it."

He started to speak again, but she shoved the file in his hand as she got up. "I'm tired and I just want to go home and have a huge glass of wine and a bath and forget this horrible day ever happened," she said. "Good night."

He watched as she took her jacket and headed up the stairs without a backward glance, noticing that her shoulders were hunched again. There was a part of him that wanted to beat Oliver senseless for bogging her down—while he had been gone for those five months after the Glades had fell, he and Felicity had become good friends. He hated that Oliver had heart her. And he _had _hurt her, even though she tried not to let it show.

Less than ten minutes later Oliver arrived, and Digg noticed that his eyes landed immediately on Felicity's empty chair. Oliver's jaw clenched as he descended the stairs.

Digg handed him the folder Felicity had prepared. "She went home," he said, regarding Oliver carefully.

Oliver looked at the file in confusion. He opened it, scanned it, and then closed it again. "Jesus, I _am_ an idiot_." _

"Yup," Digg said. He really wasn't one to sugarcoat.

Oliver looked at him incredulously, then looked back down at the file in his hands. "She has never left me a file for Arrow business before. And it took her, what, an hour? An hour to dig up more things than I've been able to in months."

Digg looked questioningly at Oliver, wondering if the younger man was going to make him ask again what was going on.

Oliver eyed him, then sighed. "I've suspected for awhile Isabel has ulterior motives for her involvement with my family's company."

That wasn't a surprise—Oliver had said before he thought she was up to something, but he couldn't figure out what.

"She and my mother—there's tension between them that my mother won't explain, or even try to justify. That by itself wouldn't be enough to make me concerned, but . . . " Oliver looked up at Digg, then back at the folder in his hands again. "Her name is also in the book."

Digg looked up sharply. "_The_ book? Your _father's_ book? She's on the List?"

Oliver nodded, not looking up from the folder. "And apparently Felicity was able to trace several times she and Malcolm Merlyn crossed paths. She found a whole lot in an hour. And she is furious with me, isn't she?" Oliver looked at Digg, then over his shoulder, jaw ticking again.

"I don't even know what she is, Oliver. I think she's hurting," he watched as Oliver's eyes closed against the words, but he forged on. "And I think she's as mad at herself as she is at you."

"I don't know how to fix this." Oliver looked so lost as he said it, leaning against the metal table he had nearly died on a few weeks before.

Digg sighed. "I'm not sure I know the answer to that, Oliver," Digg said carefully, not wanting to overstep his bounds with either of them. "But you _do_ know you have to separate issues here, right?"

Oliver looked at him questioningly, and Digg sighed again. For such a smart kid, Oliver was really clueless about women in general, and Felicity specifically. It was maddening enough for him to see, so he could imagine it drove Felicity insane. "There's the first issue, the whole Isabel-in-the-office thing, not two days after you kissed Felicity." He put his hand up as Oliver started to speak. "And I really don't want to know what happened between you and her, Oliver, that's between the two of you." Oliver clenched his jaw again. "And then there's the other problem."

Oliver tilted his head and just looked at him, waiting. Diggle realized he really didn't have a clue what he was talking about.

"Look, Oliver, I understand that there are dark things in your past. Things that you don't want to share. I get that more than anyone." Oliver's eyes narrowed at Digg, but he continued. "But we've all been together long enough that you could have trusted her . . . " he inhaled, considering and amended "Trusted _us_ with this sooner. You and I are used to playing things close to the vest, but Felicity . . ." He trailed off. Felicity had been hurt by how Oliver had reacted to her decision to bring Barry in to save his life. She hadn't let it show, not to any of them, but he had seen the way her hands had been shaking after Oliver had gone home that night. She had made the decision she thought was necessary to save him, and Oliver had torn into her for it.

"I trust her," Oliver said, understanding where Digg was going, and arguing his case. "I trust both of you."

"But not with this," Digg said, driving his point home.

Oliver exhaled and started pacing. "It wasn't like that, I just wanted to be _sure_ first."

"And you are now?" Digg questioned. When Oliver nodded, Diggle asked, "Why?"

"Because she was downright malicious about Felicity, like its crucial she understands her role in things. It was beyond what would be expected."

Diggle suddenly understood, and he didn't like it one bit. "You slept with Isabel so that she would think Felicity was _just_ your secretary?"

Oliver nodded, jaw clenching.

For some reason, this made Diggle more furious than he had been at any point in this mess. "Oliver, everyone at Queen Consolidated has an opinion about you and Felicity. I've heard the rumors. Hell, I _know FELICITY_ has heard them, but she doesn't give them any weight. Did it ever occur to you that you made her _feel _like she was just your secretary? Especially since you kissed her, and then screwed Isabel?"

Oliver was looking at Diggle's shoes, arms crossed and jaw clenched, taking the Digg's verbal beating like he thought he deserved it. Which Diggle thought he absolutely did. "She has to know . ." Oliver started.

"HOW?" Digg roared. "How does she know?"

Oliver looked up at Diggle's tone, surprise in his eyes. Whether it was at his words, or the fact that he raised his voice, Digg wasn't sure. Honestly, he didn't care.

"Do you need me to take you home?" He asked Oliver. "Because I've had enough for one day."

Oliver shook his head. "I'll find my way."

"I sure as hell hope so." Digg said under his breath, heading up the stairs.

Xxx

Oliver watched Diggle go, emotions raging inside of him that he could not name. Now Digg was disappointed and angry too. And as much as Oliver hated it, he had made some valid points. "_How does she know?" _Was it possible that Felicity doubted her importance to him? Was it possible that she misconstrued his silence as a lack of trust? That she thought he didn't care about her? He thought of the bitter laugh she had given earlier, when he had tried (and failed) to explain things to her—a sound that had been so unusual and out of place for her. The thought that the answer to any of those questions could be _yes_ was too much to bear. He turned to the training mats, and lost himself in physical activity.

Though he hadn't thought it possible, Friday was even worse than the previous day had been. He was already in the office when Felicity arrived. She glanced toward the office, and rather than smiling at him, as she had done every day since he had forced the job upon her, she looked like she turned slightly green as soon as she looked into his office. Her hand flew up between her face and his office (or maybe him? He wasn't sure) and she marched to her desk, angling her body away from the office.

He tried to focus on the reports on his desk for a full thirty minutes before he couldn't take it anymore. He finally went to her. She looked up as he approached and then closed her eyes quickly, taking a long breath. He imagined she was doing her counting thing in her head. She looked _tired_, like she hadn't slept well the night before.

"You feeling okay?" He asked. It was obviously a stupid question, because she glared at him.

She huffed. "Even if I really was about to hack," she said acidly, "Instead of just _feeling _ like I want to hack because I see you and Isabel . . . " She jammed her hands together a few times. " . . .every _single_ freaking time I look at your office, I couldn't, because I'm sure Ms. Rochev would take great joy in my absence. Even if it had _nothing_ to do with what happened yesterday, she would think it did. I won't give her the satisfaction. Did you need something?"

He looked at her, not even sure what to say. He thought at all the times Isabel had implied that he and Felicity were involved to Oliver, and realized that she had probably said things to Felicity as well. And it was obvious, from Felicity's tone, that the things Isabel had to say probably were as malicious as the things she had said to Oliver yesterday. He also felt a twisting in his heart, because she had never been this distant with him. She had seemed _almost _herself when he had left to place the tech on Officer Daily's patrol car, but it was clear that in the time since then, he had lost ground. It scared him a little, like maybe _this_, of all things, would be the thing that would make her leave him.

"I just wanted to see how you were," he said. "And see if Daily made any moves overnight?"

She sighed. "I'll have a list for you at the end of the day, so that you can check it out." She stood. "Right now, though, I have to go get those figures from marketing." She turned and left without a backward glance, heels clicking as she left.

The real blow came at the end of the day though. When she handed him another manila folder to Digg as he stood near the door, waiting for Oliver to finish so they could head to the Foundry. She leaned toward him and said a few words, then was gone. Even before Digg came to hand him the folder, he knew what was happening. She wasn't coming tonight. "She said to call her if we need anything," Digg said slowly. Oliver met his eyes, and he swore he could see an accusation there. _Your fault_. He opened the folder, and found a list of locations where Officer Daily had spent more than thirty minutes over the course of the past twenty-four hours. The Arrow would have a fair amount of reconnaissance to do tonight, at least. He tried to focus on that, rather than the fact that Felicity had gone home without even saying a word to him.

He spent several hours checking out the locations Felicity had provided him with. He didn't find anything relevant, but even if Daily was tied to the man in the skull mask, he knew it would take some time to ferret out. He sent Digg home for the night, then spent some more time on the computers looking into the things Felicity had dug up on Isabel. She had worked for Merlyn Global in 2002, and it appeared that was when she had made the jump to management positions. She had flitted around from company to company. He recognized several of the names. One was owned by Adam Hunt.

He looked at the clock, and sighed to see it wasn't even midnight. He wondered if Felicity was still up. He argued with himself for awhile, then finally gave in to himself. He was at her door within fifteen minutes, knocking gently. He heard her muffled curse before the door opened. She looked tired, dressed in a baggy MIT shirt and a pair of yoga pants. "What do you want Oliver?" She said in a frustrated tone. He noticed she leaned against the doorframe, keeping the door against her other shoulder. She had no desire to invite him in.

He was so outside of his element, and had no idea what to do. What to say. "I just want to talk, Felicity. To say I'm sorry . . ."

She leaned her head against the doorframe, eyes closed. "You don't want to hear what I have to say."

He stepped toward her, but her eyes flew open, and the unspoken _don't _in them had him stopping on the spot. "I always want to hear what you have to say," he said, and he realized he meant every word. This wasn't like fights with previous girlfriends, where he said what they needed to hear to get the result he wanted. He had never meant those words as much as he did in that moment.

She shook her head at him. "No, Oliver, I don't think you do. Because I have already SAID everything I would say now before. As much as it seems otherwise right now, we _aren't _idiots, Oliver, so I don't see a point in wasting time saying anything else. You've made your position clear, and I think I've made myself clear"

His heart dropped a bit. He didn't know what she meant, exactly, but he was certain it couldn't be good. "Felicity . . . "

"Look, just give me the weekend, okay? Call me if you need me for . . . stuff. I'm not quitting, and I'm not walking away, I just need to get my head in order, okay?"

He started to shake his head. This felt like a goodbye. Or at least an end to something that hadn't even happened, but _could have_.

"Please, Oliver," she said, an edge of desperation in her voice. And he could see then that she was barely holding on. Digg was right, he _had _hurt her, and he didn't realize until that moment how badly. It was like a self fulfilling prophecy.

At least he could do this for her. He nodded. "Okay. But I will see you Monday," he said, and hoped it was true. "And you call me too . . . if you want to talk. Or whatever."

She nodded. "'kay. Goodnight, Oliver." And then she shut the door.

He went home after that, and as he laid in his bed, he thought about what she had said. _"I have already said everything I would say now before."_ She had said _a lot_ of things to him, and he fished through his memories, looking for things that might pertain now.

He thought of her reaction, after he had kissed her. _"I'm not that girl, Oliver. I can't go here, and then pretend it didn't happen." _And looking at it now, from her side, he could see what she meant. She had walked in on him with another woman.

He thought about how he had cheated on Laurel, and so many before her. It had always been so easy to lie his way out of it, to make it from something to nothing. But now, he knew better. Maybe it was because he had changed, or maybe it was just because this was _Felicity_. But he realized that there may be no going back from this, and that made his heart sink. As it was, he couldn't lie to her worth a damn. He didn't even want to try. He wanted, desperately, for him to know every part of him. But even though she knew the biggest part of his secrets, he worried that the details would be too much for her. She might like the person he had become, even though he didn't understand why, but he couldn't imagine that she would still like him he she understood how he got there.

He pushed the thought aside and continued to fish. _"Why her?"_ She didn't understand why he had slept with Isabel the first time. He was sure it still applied. He could try to explain that it would keep her safe, but the more time that passed, the more hollow that seemed. He had forced her into the EA position without really thinking about what it cost her. And she had done it—for him. But, as far as Isabel was concerned, he was willing to cast Felicity aside. While that wasn't what he was actually doing, that is how it was perceived, and that perception obviously rubbed off on Felicity. He hadn't said or done anything to make her know how important she was to what they did . . . to _him_.

_"Not for me_." She had said that to him, telling him not to take a life to save her. As if he really had given a second thought to saving her at the cost of the Count's life. He thought again about Digg questioning if _she_ knew how he felt about her. Obviously not, if she had thought that.

_"You deserve better." _Wanting more for him than he thought he deserved.

Her righteous anger as she told him off for not realizing Digg and Carly had split. _"You are so involved with yourself you don't realize the look that he gets every time you do." _ She never backed down. She challenged him. She pushed him to do the right thing. She believed in him. Or she had. Had he destroyed that? He couldn't, for the life of him, figure out how to make it right.

_"Can I trust you?" _He thought of the words she had asked him, before she handed him the copy of the List that Walter had obtained. He _knew _that he could trust Felicity. Maybe it was time to start talking. He had to trust that it wouldn't be too much for her . . . at this point, he didn't think he could make things much worse than they already were.


	4. Unexpected Partners

Chapter 4 – Unexpected Partners

The weekend dragged by for Oliver. He spent Saturday morning with his mother, something he was trying to make a habit of since her release from jail. When Thea came home from Roy's just before lunch, he lounged around on the couch with her for awhile, watching television and chatting. Spending time with Thea was another thing he was trying to make a habit of. One of the things he had realized, since returning from his self-imposed exile from Lian Yu, was that he needed to make more of the time that he had with his family.

By one though, Oliver was feeling antsy and headed to the Foundry. He spent the afternoon training with Diggle. As the sun was setting, Digg produced another one of those maddening manila folders and handed it to him. Oliver looked at him, and he knew that his unspoken questions were written on his face.

"She had me pick it up on my way in," Digg said in explanation.

They spent the evening checking out the locations that Felicity had compiled in the folder from Officer Daily's movements. It was rather dull, time-consuming work, and Oliver allowed his mind to wander as he watched the people coming and going from a restaurant Daily had stopped at the previous day. He was tired of receiving information from a damn folder. He wanted to see the pride in Felicity's face as she watched them see what she'd uncovered for them. It seemed like it had been forever since they had all worked together as a team. The fiasco that was Thursday hardly counted, and the last time before that was when he had been dealing with Cyrus Gold. That entire week had been . . . intense. He made up his mind, somewhere around the fifth location he checked out, that he wasn't going to give her the weekend. He was going to her tonight and do whatever it took to try and fix the damage he had done.

So he was infinitely surprised when he came down the stairs and found her sitting in her desk, talking intensely with Digg. She jumped up as he came in, and looked him over quickly. For a moment, he thought she was going to rush into his arms as she had the night he had returned from fighting Gold. He could swear he saw real fear in her eyes. "You're okay." She said, and he was fairly certain she was saying it to reassure herself. Her arms went around her waist, something she always seemed to do in intense situations. "I found something, Oliver."

"About the man in the mask?" He asked, still thrown by the look on her face.

She sank down into her share and shook her head. She started tapping the keys on her computer. "Yesterday, I put a microtransmitter on Isabel's phone. I didn't expect much . . . "

She tapped a final key and sat back in the chair, chewing on her thumbnail. Her eyes flitted up to his, and held his gaze for a brief moment before looking back toward the computer.

Xxx

Felicity tried _hard_ not to watch Oliver as the audio began playing. She didn't do a very good job of it though. She had been shocked, to her core, when she had heard this the first time. She had rushed to the Foundry as fast as she could, and when she had found Diggle alone, she had immediately thought the worst. When she saw him come down the stairs, there was a very large part of her that wanted to forget the events of the past few days and simply throw herself into his arms, because he was alive and whole, and part of her had been afraid that she had discovered this information too late to help him.

"Are you making any progress?" A distinctly male voice asked as the recording began. She looked up at Oliver, as his eyes flew to hers. She saw the uncertainty and confusion there. She looked down toward his shoes.

Isabel's voice came next. "I don't think he's sleeping with the assistant. But he cares about her. And she cares even more about him." She hated this part. As much as she hated Oliver's reasoning and his methods, in a way he had been right. She had been ferreting out their relationship, and she was going to use it against him, if she could. She watched out of the corner of her eyes as his hands clenched into fists. "I think she's the closest thing to leverage there is, other than his sister or mother."

"No." The other voice was short and concise. "The Queen women are off limits. It will have to be the assistant."

"I feel that I have a fair amount of control over him . . . " Isabel began.

"You don't know who you're really dealing with, Isabel." The voice was chillingly fierce and again Felicity found goosebumps forming. This guy had the creepy factor. She looked back up at Oliver then, feeling like this was the last moment of semi-normalcy before his current reality came crashing down on him, but when she met his eyes she knew that he already knew. His jaw was working; his eyes were unfocused on anything in the room and were locked in the past; and he was working hard to control his breathing. He had recognized the voice, placed it, and understood what it meant.

"Just let me know when you're ready for us to make a move, Malcolm." Isabel said, and the recording ended.

Felicity took off her glasses and rubbed her hands of her eyes. Diggle stood, arms crossed, watching Oliver. Oliver didn't do much more than stare, still working on the breathing thing. When he finally moved, it was to look to Digg. "I put an arrow in his heart." He said. Digg nodded.

"Now that I had a clue what to look for," Felicity said slowly, biting her lip. "I was able to find some things that slipped under the radar before . . .about your mother's acquittal." While she had waited with Digg for Oliver to return, she had started new searches on the finances of the jurors. Things had come to light faster than she had ever imagined. Small transactions, littered here and there in each juror's account, that could be linked back to companies Isabel was somehow tied to. She expected Oliver to argue, or be angry at her implication, or react in some way. Instead, he simply nodded.

"It always felt wrong," he said softly. Then his eyes closed suddenly, and he took a measured inhale. "If she knows . . ."

"We don't know that." Felicity said softly. Oliver looked at her, and she saw the pain there again.

"Now what?" Digg asked.

Oliver's gaze shifted to Digg as he leaned against one of the pillars and exhaled. "I need to think. Let's meet again in the morning, and we can come up with a game plan."

Digg nodded, then looked to Felicity, an unspoken question in his eyes.

She shook her head, ever so slightly. Realizing that Malcolm Merlyn, who had come close to killing Oliver on more than one occasion, was alive made her realize that life was too short to put things off. If Oliver wanted to talk, she would listen. She would be smart about her own safety, because it was now obvious that they planned to use her as a pawn in this, and that was something she couldn't allow. If something happened to her, Oliver would never forgive himself. Even if his means were absolutely idiotic, his intentions had been in the right place.

Digg said a hasty goodnight and headed for the exit. Oliver watched him go, and then sank down to sit on the floor. He looked up at her, and his gaze bore in to her. "Sometimes I feel like the worst demons never stay dead," he said softly. "I thought for certain I had killed Deadshot after the Unidac auction, only to have him come back. Obviously that was Digg's demon, but still. Now this . . . "

Felicity closed the distance between them, sinking down on the side of the pillar next to his, so that their shoulders were barely touching. "There was no way you could have known."

He snorted. "At least I didn't lie to Tommy, in the end."

She turned her head to look at him, unsure of what he meant, but his head was still tilted back as he looked up at the ceiling. "He asked me, at the end, if I killed his dad, and when I said no, he thanked me." He turned to face her then and she saw the pain of Tommy's loss written in his eyes. "He was dying, and he _thanked me_. For a lie."

"Oliver . . ." she said, not sure what else to say.

"I owe you an apology," he said, and she was totally surprised by his shift in direction. "No, I owe you alot more than that. I'm not even sure it's a good place to start. But I'm sorry that I didn't make it more clear how important you are to me. And that . . ." He sighed, and she knew he was struggling to find the words. She wanted to reassure him, but she couldn't, because the words would be hollow. She still wasn't sure where they went from here.

The silence stretched between them for a few minutes, but then he surprised her. "When I first came home, it was so hard to pretend that my life hadn't changed in this huge way . . . that I was still the carefree kid I was when I left." She looked at him, shocked at how open he was being, but he was looking at the ceiling again. "I got better at putting up the façade since I've been back, but sometimes it slips. I forget how to simply _be_ with people, and enjoy the act of being with them. Thea told me once, right after I got home, that I needed to let someone in—to see the real me. And I hadn't realized, until the other day, that even after a year, I still really haven't done that." Now he turned to look at her over his shoulder. "I tell myself that you and Digg know me, but I don't let you in. I reveal little pieces of myself sometimes, but never the whole. Digg pointed out that you might have the impression I don't trust you."

"Oh," she said, surprised again. She exhaled, and searched for the right words. The last thing she wanted to do was stop him, when he was _finally_ opening up. "Kind of. I don't understand why you didn't tell me about Isabel. And I sort of understand why you were mad about Barry, but . . . " she closed her eyes. "You almost _died_, Oliver. I didn't realize until that moment that there's very little I wouldn't do to keep you alive. I trusted Barry, so I told him. Yes, its not my secret to tell, but this _is_ my life, and I couldn't live with myself if I didn't try . . . " She trailed off and looked back at him, worried about what she would see in his eyes.

"I do trust you," he said, his eyes boring in to hers. She had to remind herself to breath. "Probably more than anyone else. That's why I made you my Executive Assistant."

She snorted, she couldn't help herself. "Oh, and here I thought it was because you are a masochist."

"I _am_ sorry about that. I never could have dreamt what people would think, and I didn't consider what it would mean for you. When I came back, they wanted me to take the CEO position. It was overwhelming . . . I couldn't imagine doing that and still taking on my father's list. That is part of the reason I brought you up there, you know. It seemed a lot less overwhelming, even when I didn't think I would put the hood on again, with you by my side."

"I hated it," she said, "but I never regretted taking the position until a few days ago, Oliver." She hated the way his jaw clenched at her words, but they needed to be said. He needed to understand.

"I spend so much time trying to convince myself that I am the old Oliver Queen that sometimes I forget that other people are affected by my actions. I didn't think about how it would seem, to you, and for that I am very sorry. Among other things."

"Accepted. But don't ever kiss me again unless you are all in." She threw her hand over her mouth, unable to believe she had let that escape.

To her shock, he smiled at her. A full blown smile.

"I should change," he said, and she realized he was still dressed in green.

She sighed. "I think I'm too tired to get off this floor. What a crazy couple of days."

"I'll change, we'll grab takeout, and then we'll go to your place."

She narrowed her eyes at him, preparing to argue. "Please, Felicity. I'll sleep on the couch. Did you not hear what that recording said?"

She exhaled, and knew that it was better not to fight him on this. "Fine."

He surprised her yet again as he put his outfit back on its mannequin. "I wear the hood to honor two people," he said gently. His left hand came to his right shoulder, and he ran his hand over an area where she knew there was a large circular scar. "Yao Fe gave me my first scar on the island when he shot me with an arrow. But he kept me safe, and became my friend. It was his daughter, Shado, who taught me to shoot. So I wear the hood for both of them."

She reached out and touched his wrist, needing to touch him. She knew, from what he had said before, that neither of their stories had a happy ending. She was almost certain he carried the burdens of their death on his shoulders. "It wasn't your fault."

His eyes flew to hers. "How can you possibly know that?"

"Because I know you," she said, and meant every word.

His hand came up then, and he ran his knuckle over her jaw. "I really, really hope you still feel that way when you know the entire story."


	5. Waiting Game

_AN: WHY WHY WHY is it so many days until we get a new episode. Lots of spoilers floating around. I want some new Arrow :-) Anyway, thank you all for the reviews/follows/favorites. Glad you are enjoying, and we're finally getting a little payoff for all of Oliver's stupidity in the first chapter. I told you, it was born from spoilers and I didn't love it in the beginning. Darn you Oliver Queen and your womanizing ways. Anyway, I updated the first couple of chapters, I spit them out without too much proofreading and the typos were driving me NUTS!_

Chapter 5 – Waiting Game

Felicity curled up in the corner of her couch, tucking her legs under her and holding a Chinese take-out box in her hands. "So," she said, looking to Oliver, "do we have a plan yet?" She then proceeded to use her chopsticks to fish out some rice from her box.

Oliver took his own box and settled on the floor, his shoulder close to her knee, and sighed. "I suppose we do what we've already been doing. We wait. We try to track down Merlyn like we're trying to track down the man in the skull mask."

"Seriously," she said with a chuckle, "we have GOT to come up with a better name. MISM? Skull man? Man-in-the-skull-mask is such a mouth full!"

He looked up over his shoulder and smiled at her, thankful that for the moment at least, she seemed to have forgiven him.

"We'll watch Isabel too, of course, now that we know she's knee deep in this." He frowned at that. What was Merlyn's motivation to have her at his family's company.

Felicity was obviously thinking the same thing. "What do you think his end game is . . . Merlyn, I mean? He said he wanted to use me for leverage, but to what end."

Oliver clenched his jaw at her words. The thought of anyone trying to use her to get to him was infuriating and maddening and . . . _frightening_. He hated that he had been right about that. Paranoia would have felt much nicer than being right. He shook his head. "I don't know. The Glades is already destroyed. Maybe he wants to control Queen Consolidated? But I don't know. I wonder if perhaps my mother does though."

He felt Felicity's hand on his shoulder. "Sorry," she said softly. "Can't imagine that will be a fun conversation."

He raised an eyebrow and glanced at her again, taking another bite of his mushu pork.

"We should look at any properties Isabel has in holding, see if maybe Merlyn is hiding in one of them," he mused after he was finished chewing.

"Already on my 'to do' list," she said. "Are you getting anything from surveillance on Daily?"

He shook his head. "So far, no. He goes to a lot of public places. He could be meeting anyone at any number of them." He disliked the knowledge that the _Mirakuru _was out there. He had no idea who had it, or how they had gotten their hands on it, but none of it could possibly be good.

"How in the _hell_ am I going to look Isabel in the eye on Monday?" Felicity mused. "I suck at lying almost as much as you do."

He exhaled, hating the idea that she was in danger because of them. "You treat her like you would have on Friday." He stopped, reconsidering. "Okay, maybe the week before, because . . ." He wondered if there would ever be a time that his choice to sleep with Isabel would not hang between them as it did now. "You just need to be more careful. Around her, and in general." He turned all the way around now, draping his arm on the couch cushion next to her legs. "I don't want you alone until this is finished."

She wrinkled her nose at him, obviously not liking the idea. "Oliver . . ."

"Don't argue please, not on this. It's too important." He needed her to understand this, and to agree. "It doesn't have to be me, but I want someone with you."

She sighed. "Hard to argue with that damn recording replaying in my head," she said with a huff.

They finished their meals in a companionable silence, occasionally talking about his mom or Thea, or something she had seen on TV. It hadn't escaped his notice that she was as hesitant, if not more so, to discuss her past than he was to discuss his. He knew almost nothing about her family. He found it strange that she didn't volunteer a single tidbit of information. He did know, though, that he appreciated that she never dug to get information from him, and he decided to extend her the same courtesy.

Felicity yawned as she placed her takeout container on the counter. "I hope the first full week of 2014 isn't as exhausting as the first few days have been," she said, stretching as she leaned back on the couch. She stretched her legs out and scooted down, her shoulder nearly touching his back.

"I'm pretty sure that's my fault too," he said, unable to stop the guilt from bubbling up in him.

He could feel her gaze on him. "It's done, Oliver," she said. "There's no undoing it." He hated that there was a hint of sadness in her voice.

"And yet, you're still here," he said, surprising himself.

She laughed at him. "Of course I'm still here. This is _my _apartment."

He turned his head again to look at her, remembering how he been musing about her forgiving ways and the fact that she continued to stay on the night that he kissed her. "You know what I mean."

"We do real good for this city, Oliver. It's worth the rest of it."

"It's just the job?" He asked, hating that he was fishing around for more from her. He should be happy to have her in his life at all, after all he had pulled lately.

She turned on her side to face him, and they were dangerously close. "Are you fishing for compliments, Mr. Queen?"

He shook his head, unable to joke at the moment. He looked into her eyes, then down at her lips, and back to her eyes again.

Her eyes went wide behind her glasses, and she quickly pushed herself up and off the couch. Too much, too soon obviously. She had been a bit disbelieving when he had kissed her the first time, and he had promptly proved her right in her reservations. This would take some time. If he really decided to go through with it, which he knew that he shouldn't. But hell, she was already in danger anyway. She came back quickly with blankets and a pillow. He found it humorous that she didn't even try to convince him to go home, or call one of his security personnel. She knew he wanted to stay. She quickly wished him goodnight and seemed to sprint toward her bedroom.

xxx

Felicity woke up to the smell of fresh coffee. She nuzzled into her pillow, then her eyes flew open as she heard the distinctly male voices coming through her closed bedroom door. The events of the past few days came back to her, and she realized Digg must have come over. She quickly showered and changed, then headed to her tiny kitchen. She had always enjoyed her quaint little kitchen, with its adorable yellow cabinets and floral wallpaper. Oliver and John looked distinctly out of place there—hard lines and solid muscle in a distinctly feminine setting. She greeted them as Oliver handed her a cup of coffee, then hoisted herself up on the counter.

"So?" She asked, knowing they had already been talking strategy. Oliver and Digg brought her up to date on what they were currently thinking, and they brainstormed together for awhile before heading out for breakfast and then to the lair.

As soon as they arrived, she sat down at the computers and tackled her to do list. She had plenty of thoughts on how to track down Malcolm Merlyn through Isabel. She set to work and must have lost track of time, because when she looked up again, Digg was shoving food at her. "Eat," he said, "because at one, you train."

She sighed. "No amount of training is going to make me a match for the Dark Archer." It was obviously _not _the right thing to say, because she heard Oliver snap one of the sticks he was training with and growl audibly.

He stalked toward them and she tried not to stare at his amazingly sculpted chest and torso. She visibly flinched at the barely contained rage in his eyes.

"It's true," she said, shrugging. "I'm not as good at this stuff as you guys are."

"We've had a lot of practice," Oliver growled. She decided now was not the time to point out that he had hardly escaped from any of his last few meetings with the Dark Archer. That certainly wouldn't help anything. So she ate, and then she tried very hard to listen to Digg as he instructed her how to block and subdue an attacker. After, she continued digging up whatever dirt she could find on Isabel. As some point, Oliver suited up and headed out. When she became aware that he was gone, she figured it was time to switch to tracking Daily. She connected with Oliver over the comms, letting him know that Daily was in the area he was currently in. They had tried checking out his locations after the fact, tonight maybe they would try to tail him.

"I see him," Oliver's voice said in her ear.

"'Kay," she said, switching back to her searches on Isabel. "Here if you need anything." She muted her comm link and lost herself in the numbers and data trails that would unearth Malcolm Merlyn to them.

"Felicity!" Oliver's voice was suddenly urgent in her ear.

"Here," she said as she unmuted the comm.

"Daily is sitting on a bench next to Sebastian Blood."

"The Alderman?" She asked, unnecessarily, as if there were two people in the world with that name.

"Mmmhmm," Oliver said.

"Coincidence?" She asked?

"I don't know. I thought that Blood has the best interests of the city at heart. I even donated money to his mayoral campaign." She could hear the indecision in his voice.

"I'll start digging, but. . . "

"If he's running for public office, there probably isn't much," Oliver finished for her.

She went to work.

It was a long night. Oliver followed Blood from his meet with Daily, but it turned out that he just headed home. Felicity prepped another tracker for Blood's car, but like Oliver, the man had many vehicles and drivers. It would make things complicated. She also worked up another microtransmitter, with the hopes that Oliver would be able to slip it on Blood's phone sometime in the near future.

It was nearly three in the morning when Oliver came back to the lair. Digg slipped out as soon as he arrived, and it was clear that the two men were holding firm on their plan to not leave her alone.

He changed, then handed her his jacket as he picked up his own.

"Doesn't your family wonder where you are?"

He shrugged. "Fine, tomorrow we go to my place."

Her eyes grew wide, trying to imagine Moira Queen's reaction to Oliver bringing his assistant home for the night. "Or you can go home, and make Digg stay with me, or for goodness sake just let me be, no one is going to bother me in my apartment."

He tilted his head at her with a weary expression on his face. "You don't know that."

She huffed, and couldn't argue, because he was right. She _didn't _know that. She sighed, and wordlessly trudged up the stairs.

Soon they were at her apartment again. She threw down her bag and coat and fell on to the couch with a groan. She was so very tired, but if she went to bed now, tomorrow would come all too soon. She was not looking forward to facing Isabel. She had no idea how she would be able to look the wretched woman in the eye, knowing that she was scheming with a sociopath to eventually use her as leverage against Oliver.

Oliver raised an eyebrow at her. "Rough day at the office?" He teased.

"It is _exactly_ the day at the office that I'm dreading tomorrow." She said. "Everything has changed."

He sat in front of her, on the floor, as he had done the night before, tenting his hands on his elbows. "Not everything," he said thoughtfully. "There are just more players, and a few motivations have been revealed."

She sighed, wondering what it was like to expect people to deceive you. To be unsurprised to learn that someone you thought you knew had a whole other side, and that side was plotting to do terrible things. She knew that terrible things had to have happened to him in those five years for him to take things like Isabel's involvement and Malcolm's lack of being dead in stride. She was tempted to ask him if it bothered him at all, but she already knew the answer. It did, just not in the same way. She rolled over to her side and found her nose not six inches away from the back of Oliver's neck. She took in the collar of his tshirt, the hairs on his neck, and his smell. She closed her eyes, and found it so peaceful that she didn't even bother to open them again.

xxx

Oliver was pouring her a cup of coffee when he heard her stir on the couch.

"Don't you ever sleep?" She asked with a yawn, stretching up.

He walked to her, extending the cup of coffee. "Not really," he admitted with a shrug.

She regarded him with a tilted head, and he wondered if he should tell her more. He thought about that—asked himself if there was something about his insomnia he wished to share with her, and he was surprised the answer was yes. "I dream," he admitted. "Or rather, _remember_. So I try to avoid sleep unless I'm tired enough to do it dreamlessly."

She sniffed her coffee, closing her eyes in appreciation at the aroma. "Hmm, well, you've slept less than me, and I slept pretty dreamlessly. Where _did _you sleep anyway?" He nodded to the floor and watched her eyes grow wide in horror. "You should have woken me! Or slept in my bed! That's silly Oliver."

He chuckled at her outraged reaction. "I slept on an island for five years, Felicity. Your floor is hardly roughing it." It was still odd to be able to talk about things so candidly with her. He felt that perhaps it wouldn't be so hard, sharing his past with her. At least not the least horrific parts of it. He wasn't sure he would ever be able to tell her the worst of it.

She sighed. "I should go take a shower. " Her nose wrinkled in displeasure. "So we can go face the dragon lady." She was adorable, in her rumpled clothes and mussed hair, worrying about facing down a woman who was scheming to use her as leverage against him as if she was doing something unpleasant, rather than putting her life in danger. He sat on her couch and watched her head to the bathroom, his mind alternating between picturing their morning routine like this every day and imagining all of the ways that doing just that could get her killed.


	6. Unexpected Situations

_AN: Sorry for the wait on an update, real life has been incredibly needy lately. Boo. I had originally hoped to have this done before the hiatus ended, but oh well. LONG chapter, hope you enjoy. And HOW BOUT THAT EPISODE LAST NIGHT?_

Chapter 6 – Uncomfortable Situations

Felicity sat in the back of the Bentley next to Oliver, wringing her hands. It felt like a lifetime since she had last been at Queen Consolidated. She still had no idea how she was going to look Isabel Rochev in the eyes and _not _ask her about the fact she was working with a man who had been directly responsible for the death of 503 of Starling City's citizens. They arrived at QC much sooner than she would have liked, and all too soon Digg was opening the door to help her out. He smiled at her in what she was sure was supposed to be a reassuring manner, but it didn't reach his eyes, so it failed miserably. As they walked past security, Felicity wondered how long Oliver would insist on guarding her night and day. The gossip mongers would have a field day if she left and arrived with him every day. Not that she cared. But Isabel was bound to bring it up. Which would be oh so pleasant.

As they stepped into the executive suite, Felicity stupidly let her gaze drift toward Oliver's office and was immediately assaulted with a memory of Oliver pressing Isabel against his desk, as Isabel smiled over his shoulder at her. There had been victory and a smugness in her eyes as she had met Felicity's eyes. Felicity groaned. _Stupid idiot_. Whether she was thinking about herself, Isabel, or Oliver, she wasn't entirely sure.

"Felicity?" Oliver asked, and when she looked at him there was concern in his eyes. Had she said that idiot part out loud? Oliver raised an eyebrow at her, and she decided, that yes, she had. _Dammit._

"Well," she said, "you are! Glass walls, Oliver!" And so was she, on so so so many levels—but especially for letting it bother her. He started to speak, and she threw her hands up to stop him. She was so not in the mood. "At this rate, you are going to _have _to transfer me back to IT if you want me to stay sane." She plopped herself down at her desk and set to work preparing a presentation for Oliver's first meeting, ignoring him until he walked to his office. She wrinkled her nose as she glared at her computer screen. Maybe if she turned her desk, she wouldn't have to see his office out of the corner of her eye.

Because the day wasn't starting off rough enough, Isabel appeared in front of her desk less than ten minutes after they arrived. "Really, I would think after last week you wouldn't be showing up to work together," Isabel said as she entered the room.

Felicity quickly minimized the screen she was working on, eyes flying up to meet Isabel's scornful gaze. "Here to see Mr. Queen?" She asked, as professionally as she could muster.

"Obviously," Isabel said, throwing Felicity a glance that said it was obvious. "You know, Ms. Smoak, a smarter person would know when she's been bested."

Felicity couldn't help it, she laughed a spiteful, disbelieving laugh. "Aren't much for feminism, are you Ms. Rochev? Sleeping with the CEO doesn't make you better than me, and it certainly doesn't make you smarter. I judge myself by my friendships and my morals, not by notches in my bedpost." She knew she should probably try to be professional or something, but she was so done with this. This woman was helping Malcolm Merlyn, and planning on using her to leverage Oliver into doing God-knows-what, so she was _done_ with the professionalism. Isabel hadn't really bothered to keep her thoughts about how Felicity got her position to herself, so she saw no reason to hold back anymore. She stood up, hands on her desk. "Can you say that your morals, and the company you keep speak well toward your character?" She gathered some files. "I need to take these to IT for signatures. I'm pretty sure you remember how to get in his office on your own." Isabel looked furious, but she hardly cared. She really didn't like that woman.

Digg was standing near the elevators and raised an eyebrow as she punched the down button a little too hard. "Okay?" he asked.

"No!" She said, punching the button again. "It's like, 9:30, and this day . . ." she threw her arms up. "Terrible. This day is terrible. This YEAR is terrible. That man is such an idiot."

Digg was opening his mouth to speak, but the elevator door opened, saving her from having to make anymore conversation. Except, _damn it all_, Diggle was in the elevator with her. "Really, Digg?"

Diggle just raised an eyebrow. "Boss's orders," he said, as way of an apology. The rode down in silence, and Felicity did her best to ignore her shadow as she traveled around the IT department, collecting signatures and greeting old colleagues.

The day didn't get any better, and by the time lunch rolled around, Felicity's nerves were frayed. Oliver was in yet another meeting, and she had finished all her administrative items for QC. She set to work compiling yet another manila folder for Oliver. She needed a break from his looming presence, and she had every intention of thrusting the folder at him and calling it a day as soon as 5pm rolled around. The thought of spending the evening at the Foundry, with him in her ear as he put his life on the line on the streets, was more than she could handle at that particular moment. The only problem with that was that he would insist Diggle accompany her, which would leave him without backup if anything happened while he was out doing Arrow things. She sighed, and focused her mind on digging through Sebastian Blood's background. Apparently Blood had known Cyrus Gold when he was growing up. That particular piece of information was troubling. By the time Oliver's meeting was over, she had a sizable amount of dirt on Blood, and was back to work on Isabel and Merlyn. The stack of paper in the manila folder grew.

At four, she turned to see Isabel leaning over Oliver's desk, talking to him. Oliver was settled back in his office chair. To an outsider, he looked vaguely interested in whatever Isabel was saying, but Felicity could see the clench in his jaw. He too, was growing weary of the charade. She took pity on him, and flagged down Digg. She shoved the manila folder in his hands. "Here, take this to him, and tell him there is an item in security that needs his attention."

Digg raised an eyebrow at her, then looked toward Oliver. He laughed. "Am I the knight in shining armor, or are you?"

"You can be. I just want to go home."

"Not alone," Digg said quickly.

She sighed. "Of course not, that would be absolutely silly. I couldn't possibly go anywhere alone." She understood Oliver's concern, but she was already growing incredibly tired of every aspect of this.

She watched as Diggle went in and got Oliver's attention. Oliver's eyes flitted from Digg over to her, the slight lift at the corner of his mouth an unspoken thank you. When she looked away from Oliver, she found Isabel scowling at her through the glass, fury etched in her features. She followed Oliver out of the office, but stopped at Felicity's desk.

"You think you're so cleaver," Isabel hissed.

Felicity sighed. "I don't know what you mean."

Isabel leaned toward her. "I always win, Ms. Smoak."

"Sorry, what's the prize? Oliver? Queen Consolidated?" Felicity's patience was beyond gone, and she couldn't think of a single way to _not _respond to Isabel's baiting. Perhaps sending Oliver and Digg both away had been a poor plan. Because she was now alone with this woman. Again. _Damn damn damn. _"I'm sure Mr. Queen will be happy to hear that, Ms. Rochev." She took a file, handing it to Isabel. "Here are the quarterly reports."

She took another folder and walked to Oliver's office, just to get away from her. Isabel glared at her, the edge of her lip lifted in an ugly snarl. She didn't say anything though—she simply stalked off toward the elevators.

Felicity sighed in relief and returned to her desk, finishing up for the day and powering everything down. As soon as Diggle and Oliver returned, she stood. "John, can you take me home?"

Oliver started to object.

"Look, Oliver, go home. You haven't seen your family in days. It's been a long day." She didn't look at him, simply walked toward the elevator, hoping that Diggle would follow.

xxx

Oliver looked to Diggle, wanting to argue. But Digg had that look in his eyes. _Give her space._ He found it fascinating that he and Digg, and really Felicity too, could communicate so well without words. Oliver sighed. "Fine. Keep her safe." He knew that Diggle would, but he needed to say it anyway. Digg tilted his head, obviously insulted by Oliver's need to state the obvious. Felicity kept her back to him as she waited for the elevator, and he could tell from the tension in her shoulders that she was pissed at him again. He wondered what Isabel had said to her to put her on edge.

Felicity was right, though, he hadn't been home much. He had dinner with his family and hung out with Thea before she headed to Verdant for the evening. He spent some time reviewing Felicity's damn folder in his room, before heading over to the Foundry to suit up. She had dug up some interesting things on Blood, so he would spend the majority of his evening tailing the man. When he arrived at the Foundry, it was empty and quiet. He held up his phone, considering whether he should call Felicity, or maybe Digg. Before he could, the phone started to buzz and Felicity's picture appeared. He couldn't help but smile.

"Felicity," he answered.

She sighed. "Please tell Digg its okay to leave me here so he can come back you up."

He clenched the phone, thinking of all the things that could happen if they left her alone. "Absolutely not." He could hear her mumbling, obviously unhappy with his choice. "You _could_ just come here, too," he said, surprising even himself.

Silence, followed by another sigh. "Really, Oliver?"

"I was kidding," he said, even though he hadn't been. It was too quiet down here, and it reminded him how much he enjoyed having both Felicity and Diggle around to keep him company; how much easier all of this was with them around. He hated that he missed her presence, because she should be allowed to have a life away from him. And he tried to ignore how much _that_ thought made his gut clench too.

"You are stubborn," she growled, and then she hung up on him.

He chuckled, pocketed the phone, and headed out to hunt for Blood.

xxx

Oliver spent more time on the streets than he should have. The thought of going back to the empty Foundry didn't appeal to him. He didn't really want to go home. Diggle had texted him and told him he would stay at Felicity's for the night, so that Oliver could sleep in his own bed, but he didn't like that idea much. He tried not to think about why that was, or what it meant. He had tailed Blood for three hours, as he went to various parts of the Glades. He watched as Daily and Blood met outside another restaurant. To an outsider, it would look as if they just bumped into each other, but Oliver could tell that this was planned. It was too much of a coincidence after last time. Not to mention that Felicity had found many calls between the two men in Blood's phone records. Including a call to Blood from Daily, on the night of Officer Hilton's death. Blood spoke with Daily, nodded, and then took a key the officer handed him.

Could Blood be the man in the skull mask? And if he was, how had he gotten his hands on the Mirakuru? Oliver knew that it would soon be time for the Arrow to meet with Sebastian Blood. But he wouldn't do that until Felicity and Digg were backing him up. They had a few more nights of recon ahead of them.

He finally went back to the Foundry to change. He pointed his car toward home, but somehow, when he looked up, he was parked in front of Felicity's apartment. It was after two am. He texted Digg, who met him at the door. "Told you to go home, man," Diggle said, hold open Felicity's apartment door.

Oliver shrugged, unable to explain his need to be there to Digg, because he couldn't explain it to himself.

Digg crossed his arms and watched him for a long moment. "Fine," he said. "I'll be back at eight. I'll bring breakfast." And with that, Digg was gone.

Oliver locked the door behind Digg, then double checked the windows in Felicity's small living room. He settled on the couch for a few minutes, staring at her closed bedroom door. Even though he knew that she was behind that door, safe, he felt an irrational fear that something had happened to her while he hadn't been with her. It was ridiculous, really. Digg had been with her the whole time. He would have checked the window in her room before she went to bed. And yet there was still this uncomfortable feeling settling in his chest, similar to the one that had been growing all day, as he had watched her put space between them in the office; as she had walked out at the end of the day without a glance in his direction.

Before he could really think about it anymore, he was quietly opening her bedroom door. _Wrong, wrong, wrong_. He couldn't feel this way about her. He couldn't need her in this way. But as he saw her form silhouetted in the bed, he felt the tightness in his chest slowly recede. He stepped into her room and took her in, buried under the covers. Her hands were pillowed under her head, and her blonde hair was spread in a wild tangle over her pillow. He saw her glasses resting on her nightstand. Before he knew what was happening, he was standing by her bedside, skimming the back of his hand over her jaw. She hummed, and smiled a little in her sleep.

Suddenly her eyes flew open, and she scurried away from him with an "eep" of surprise, clenching the covers around her. He took a step back. He hadn't meant to wake her. "Oliver! What are you doing here?" She said, sounding surprised and maybe a little angry.

"I'm sorry," he said, unable to think of much else to say. "I didn't mean to wake you."

She squinted at him, then leaned back on her pillows. "Weren't you supposed to stay home tonight? Take a night off from guard duty?"

He shrugged, then walked to the window to make sure it was locked. "All secure," he said, and it sounded lame to his own ears. "Goodnight, Felicity. I'll be on the couch." He left the room, closing the door gently behind him. Sleep didn't come to him that night.

xxx

Oliver never could have guessed what the next morning would bring. Diggle brought them breakfast, and they discussed what Oliver felt needed to be done regarding Sebastian Blood. Both Felicity and Diggle looked as weary as he felt. It was a miserable, drizzly morning, and Oliver decided that they could all use a pick-me-up, so he asked Digg to drop him at the coffee shop up the street from Queen Consolidated. He told Digg to take Felicity to the office, thinking that it might help the office gossip a bit if he _didn't_ arrive at work with Felicity for a second day in a row. Felicity smiled at him as he got out of the car.

He already had the coffee in hand and was walking toward Queen Consolidated, where he could see Diggle pulling the car up in front of the building. Because of the way the building was situated, Diggle always circled around the block, so that the passenger side was nearest the entrance. Suddenly Oliver saw two big black SUVs spin speed around the corner beyond Digg and Felicity, coming in their direction. Oliver went immediately on alert, suddenly aware that things were about to go very, very wrong. A third sped past him, towards the parked car, and Oliver immediately dropped the coffees, sprinting toward Felicity and Diggle. As Oliver watched in horror, there was a screeching of tires as the SUVs boxed the car in. He couldn't see the front of the Mercedes anymore, but he could tell that one of the big vehicles had parked so close to the driver side that Diggle wouldn't be able to get out. He heard the clear "pop" of a gunshot, and his heart dropped. He tried to run faster.

There was only about 150 yards between him and the car when the gunmen swarmed out of the SUV that had the car boxed in from behind. They had the passenger door open, and then time slowed down, because they were pulling Felicity out of the car. She was fighting them, trying to climb back in the car. He could hear her screaming for Digg as she tried to get away from them. 100 yards, but he may as well have been a world away. One of the men pushed his gun into his belt and grabbed her by both arms, pulling them behind her back, spinning her. As her head whipped around, she saw him, and then it was his name coming from her lips. She screamed his name, struggling against the man as he began pulling her toward the SUV.

The SUVs blocking the car on the front and driver side were already speeding away as they shoved Felicity into the vehicle at the rear of his sedan. He yelled for her then, as the reality of the situation settled into his gut like a led ball. He wasn't going to be fast enough. He wasn't going to reach her in time. All the time he spent training wouldn't be enough to make him reach that SUV before they sped off. He hoped that she could hear the promise in his voice as he shouted out her name. He would come for her. Her eyes, filled with tears and terror met his one last time before they pushed her into the car, and he felt the world tilt. This could _not _be happening.

"No!" He roared, as the SUV sped away. Security was pouring out of Queen Consolidated now, and he was finally close enough to the car to see Digg's form slumped in the front seat, his suit jacket stained red. Oliver was suddenly unsure of what to do—give chase or check on John. He ran to the driver side door and pulled it open. Digg was pale, but his eyes opened as Oliver yanked the door, hazed with pain. "Sorry, Oliver," he said. "Go!"

"Call 9-1-1 and get some pressure on his wound!" He yelled to the guards who were collecting around the car. He ran down the street in the direction the SUV had gone, praying he could find a bike to boost. Otherwise he didn't have a single hope of catching them. He wished he had Felicity in his ear, telling him where he needed to go, instead of her being in the back of the vehicle he was chasing. He saw black skids on the pavement and could smell burnt rubber; quickly he changed directions, sliding on the wet pavement as he ran down the alley the SUV must have taken. Fine Italian dress shoes were not made for chasing down a car on foot. He came to the next intersection and looked left, then right. He had no idea where she had gone. "DAMMIT!" He roared. With no way of knowing which way to go, he decided to head back to Queen Consolidated to check on Digg, trying desperately to think clearly. He had to find her. Pulling out his phone, he dialed Officer Lance's number from memory. The Arrow called Lance regularly, but Oliver Queen rarely did. In this case, however, Oliver Queen needed to be the one to make the call.

"Lance."

"Mr. Lance, this is Oliver Queen." Lance started to try and talk, but Oliver cut him off. "My assistant, Ms. Smoak, was just taken at gunpoint and I need your help." He rattled off a description of the vehicles, and what he had seen of the plate number for the SUV Felicity was in. He knew that Lance wouldn't keep him in the loop, but he hoped that he would answer questions if the Arrow called later.

Back at Queen Consolidated, an ambulance and several police cruisers had arrived onsite. Digg was already on a gurney, being loaded into the back of the ambulance. Oliver moved quickly to his side. Digg looked at him with a question in his eyes, and Oliver shook his head. "SHIT," Digg exhaled.

Oliver looked toward the EMT that was hovering over Diggle, who answered his unspoken question. "He's bleeding pretty badly, we need to get him to the hospital to assess the damage."

Oliver squeezed Digg's shoulder. His friend met his eyes, and Oliver could see the regret there. "Not your fault," he said. "I _will_ find her, John." Digg clasped his hand and squeezed as they loaded him into the back of the ambulance. It wasn't until the ambulance started to pull away that panic truly began to set in. Felicity had been taken, and Diggle was on his way to the hospital. He was completely alone, for the first time in what felt like forever. His jaw clenched as the fear of the unknown settled in, fueling the rage and the desire to find what was his. He spun on his heel and strode into QC, seeking out the one person who could probably give him answers.


	7. Questions

Chapter 7 – Questions

The thought of standing in the elevator was too much for Oliver to handle, so he hit the stairwell, taking the stairs two at a time. He tried to think about what needed to be done, but all he could see was Felicity's wide eyes, as they had shoved her into that SUV. He was aware of the squish of his fine Italian shoes, now drenched from the wet outside. He had to find her, and Isabel was the only link he had to Malcolm Merlyn. He stopped suddenly as another though occurred to him. _His mother. _ She may know something. He continued up the stairs, pulling out his phone and dialing his mother.

"Mom," he said when she answered. "I need you to come to QC right away."

"Oliver, wha . . . "

He cut her off. " There's been a situation. Come to Isabel's office. Please hurry." He hung up before she could respond, unable to think about making small talk or excuses when Felicity's life was in jeopardy.

He thought then of Diggle, and mentally cursed himself for not thinking to call Lyla sooner. He dialed her number and quickly explained that Digg was on the way to the hospital, asking her to keep him in the loop. And then _finally _he was at Isabel's floor. As he rounded the corner, he could see her standing at the windows. Her office overlooked the entrance to QC, so she was certainly overlooking the damage.

His wet shoes squeaked on the floor, alerting her to his presence. She turned, saying his name. Then her smile fell as she took in his appearance. He knew that the mask he usually wore was gone, and that she could certainly see his determination and anger etched in his face. Her mouth clenched into a fine line and she took a step back. "Did you see what was happening outside?" she asked, in an obvious attempt to defuse whatever she saw in his face.

"Where is she?" He growled. This woman had schemed against him, had _told_ Merlyn that Felicity was the best leverage there was.

Isabel shook her head. "What?"

Oliver clenched his jaw and took a step forward. "You mean he didn't tell you what he was planning? That he would take Felicity this morning?" He watched as her eyes widened and she looked back out the window. "I want to talk to Merlyn, Isabel."

Her shocked eyes landed back on him. "How . . . How do you know?"

"Because contrary to what you think, you know nothing about me." She looked down as he said it, but he could care less. He was barely keeping himself in check at the moment. He needed answers, and soon. The more time that passed, the more danger Felicity was in. "Get. Him. On. The. Phone."

She nodded, took out her phone, and dialed a number, holding it up to her ear. "He knows," she said into it. "And he wants to talk to you." Then she passed the phone to him.

"That took far less time than I was expecting, Oliver." Oliver clenched the phone tightly as Malcolm Merlyn's smooth voice came over the line. It made him think of Tommy, asking if the he had spared his father. The man wasn't worth his dying friend's last thoughts.

"You underestimate me. And you have something of mine. What do you want?"

"Your mother is on her way there, isn't she? Perhaps you should ask her." Oliver growled, not in the mood for games. "I'll be in touch."

"Wait!" He roared, but Merlyn was already gone. "Damn it!"

Isabel eyed the door. "You aren't going anywhere," he said, and again her eyes widened at the intensity of his voice. It was clear that she was having a hard time reconciling the man before her with the Oliver Queen she thought she knew. _Good._

"What do you know?" He asked her. She shrugged, irritating him even more. "Why does he want leverage? What does he want?"

Her lip curled, like she was annoyed that he knew so much. He longed to tell her it was Felicity that made it possible for him to know what he did, but he wouldn't put her in the crosshairs more than she already was. Isabel sighed. "I don't know, he just wanted tabs on you. Wanted to know the best way to get you to bend to his will."

"To what end?"

"I told you, I don't know." She sank into a chair and crossed her arms, looking uncomfortable.

"Where is he?" He growled. This was ridiculous, if she knew nothing, how was he going to find Felicity?

"I don't know that either."

He stepped into her space, hands on the arms of the chair she sat in. "Tell me _something _useful, Isabel, or so help me, you will be sorry."

"I brought him back into the country on my plane. He stayed at one of my properties, and asked me for funds. And then he told me to situate myself here, and to get as close to you as I could. I don't know where he is now."

_Not enough_. It wasn't enough. He clenched his jaw, trying to temper down his desire to hit something. His mother came around the corner then.

"Oliver!" She called, relief on her face. "I saw your car outside, what happened?"

Oliver put his hand up, stopping her security outside the office. "Come in," he said to her, motioning with his hand. He shut the door behind her.

She turned to him. "What's going on Oliver?"

"Malcolm Merlyn."

She froze, her gaze flying to Isabel and then back to him. "What?"

"Cut the act, Mother!" He shouted. "He's alive, and you _know_ he's alive, and he has Felicity and I am so tired of the lies!"

"He took your _secretary?" _His mother said incredulously.

His jaw clenched again. "She is more than my secretary, not that it matters. What. Does. He. Want."

She sighed, looking at Isabel again. "Not with her in the room," she said, motioning to Isabel.

"She stays, because I have no one to send her with, since Merlyn's men shot Mr. Diggle. Please, Mother, time is of the essence."

"Thea." She said. As if that explained _anything_. He waited for more but his mom just looked at him, as if he should be able to make perfect sense of what his sister has to do with this.

"What about her?"

"He wants Thea."

"WHAT? WHY?" Nothing was making sense. He looked at his watch. Forty minutes had passed since Felicity had been taken. _Too long._

"Thea . . . " She exhaled. "Oliver, Malcolm is Thea's biological father."

Isabel inhaled sharply. Oliver felt his world tilt. Jesus. Tommy had been as much Thea's brother as he was. He felt the familiar ache that always came when he thought of his best friend. "What does he want with her, Mom?"

"I think he wants them , us, to be a family. He says he came back because I needed his help . . . the trial . . . "

This was insane. Malcolm Merlyn was using Felicity as leverage for _his sister_? He scrubbed his hands over his face. This was getting him nowhere. He pulled out his phone and dialed Officer Lance.

"What is it, Queen?"

"Anything on those SUVs?"

Lance snorted. "Even if I had something, I wouldn't tell you."

"Sir, please. Are you onsite at QC?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," he responded.

"Can you come up to the 18th floor? One of our board members has been involved in several illegal activities, which I can provide you with documentation with." Except all that "documentation" was at the Foundry. He couldn't ask Felicity to send it to Lance, and he couldn't ask Diggle to go get it. Hell, he couldn't even pull it up on Felicity's computer, because he wouldn't even know where to start. He was utterly lost without them.

Lance came, agreeing to hold Isabel for questioning while Oliver retrieved the evidence they had collected. Once she was out of the way, he turned to his mother. He shook his head, uncertain what to say to her.

"It was for the best, Oliver . . . " she began.

"It doesn't matter now, Mom." He said, feeling the weight of the situation crushing in on him. "He has her, and there isn't a damn thing I can do about it."

She started to speak, but he shook his head. "Make up an excuse to keep Thea in the house today. Don't leave for _anything_ until you hear otherwise from me."

She nodded, and then walked out the door.

Oliver turned and looked at scene below. Police cars had filled the entire street in front of QC. The rain had stopped, and the sun was breaking through the clouds. The city stretched out in all directions. So many places that Merlyn could hide her. Somewhere in the city they worked so hard to save, Felicity was waiting for him to come for her. He closed his eyes, praying that she wouldn't have to wait long.

xxx

Seven hours later, Oliver was beyond frustrated. He had nothing. No idea where she was, no idea how to find her or Merlyn. Merlyn hadn't called again. He had delivered the dirt Felicity had dug up on Isabel, and she had been arrested on several counts of fraud and conspiracy to kidnap. So at least there was that. But he was no closer to finding Felicity. He sat at the computer, stumbling his way through Felicity's programs as he tried to search the properties she had tagged as potential hideouts for Merlyn.

He heard the keypad beep, and he spun around, on alert. There was a ridiculously hopeful part of him that hoped it was, by some miracle, Felicity. He was surprised as Digg made his way slowly down the stairs. "Anything?" He asked, looking at Oliver expectantly.

"Shouldn't you still be in the hospital?" Oliver asked, looking his friend over with concern. Digg's left arm was in a sling, and he looked tired, but otherwise no worse for the wear.

"I've had worse. Nothing a few pints of blood couldn't cure. Figured you could use a hand."

Oliver looked up at the ceiling, wishing he could tell Diggle something good. He felt the worry well up again. "I've got nothing, John. He's had her for almost eight hours." He didn't need to tell his world-wise friend the things that could have happened to her in eight hours. He couldn't bear to think of them himself.

His phone rang. He looked down at the caller ID, then up at Digg. "Blocked. Can you trace it."

Digg nodded. "She showed me how, I think so."

Oliver answered the phone. "Merlyn?"

"I take it you've spoken with Moira?"

"Yes. Let me talk to Felicity." Oliver demanded.

"You will bring Thea to the old theater in the Glades, and I will bring your lovely Ms. Smoak back to you in one piece."

"That isn't going to happen." As much as he wanted Felicity safe, he couldn't give Thea over to Malcolm Merlyn.

"If I don't see you there at 7pm, I will call you and let you watch as I end her." Oliver closed his eyes as an image of Felicity falling, broken and bloody, assaulted him. He took a measured breath.

"You will not touch her," he growled.

"Hmmm, that's where you are wrong Oliver. I can, and I will." Merlyn disconnected, and Oliver roared in rage.

He grabbed the table and bent over, taking deep breaths in an effort to calm himself. Behind his closed lids, he could see her, lifeless on the ground as the Dark Archer stood over her. He could feel panic rising up, and did his best to beat it down. He had to be in control if he wanted to help her. When he could finally speak again, he raised his eyes to look at Digg. "Tell me you got something." Diggle didn't answer, but the look in his eyes said everything. "Damn it," Oliver growled. "Any ideas?"

Digg exhaled, shaking his head. Oliver lowered his head again, closing his eyes and resorting to prayer. This wasn't like when she had been taken by the Count. He hadn't even known she was in danger until the Count had called him, telling him exactly where to go. There had been no waiting, no wondering where she was. There had been only action. Now, though, he could do nothing. He didn't know where she was, or even for certain that she was still alive. She _had _to still be alive, though. _Please, please help me find her._

xxx

Felicity sat in the bare tenement room, watching as the sun set over the city through the single solitary window. She knew she was somewhere in the heart of the Glades—they hadn't traveled far once they had grabbed her from in front of Queen Consolidated. They hadn't tried to keep her from seeing where they were going, and that worried her. Just like the fact that his room had nothing in it worried her. If they were planning on keeping her for long, there would have been a bed, or a chair, or _something_. This little room had nothing in it, except for a door that led to a tiny adjoining bathroom. They hadn't brought her food or water. She had resorted to drinking the metallic tasting water from the bathroom sink, knowing that she had to keep hydrated for whatever was coming. She had no doubt that whatever was happening, it would be happening very soon.

Even though she was terrified, she had tried to do the things Digg had taught her in training. Since she was taken by the Count, she had trained more with Digg. He had taught her to be aware of her surroundings, to evaluate who was in the room and who was the biggest threat. She knew that there were at least three armed guards in the hall. The other two SUVs that had been involved when she had been taken that morning had not come to this broken down tenement building after the initial grab. So there weren't that many guards. They probably didn't expect too much trouble from her, and she couldn't say that they were wrong.

She tried not to think about John. She knew the fact that he hadn't been able to do much more than moan after he had been shot was not a good sign. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to compartmentalize her fear for him. It didn't really help though. She was worried about Digg, and she was worried about Oliver. Even though no one had answered her incessant questions about the who, why or what of her abduction, she was certain that they were going to use her for leverage against Oliver. No good could come of it. The worst thing was that her purse was still laying in the back of the Mercedes. Along with her cellphone, and in turn the tracker she had installed in it. So unless there had been some sort of miracle, Oliver had no idea where to look for her. Not that he wouldn't try; she knew that he would. But she doubted he would be able to find her before whatever she had been taken for _happened._ She was going to have to be responsible for herself.

There was no way she could escape out the window—they were too high up and there was no fire escape. Oliver would certainly have no problem getting out of this space, but she wasn't Oliver. So her only means of escape was through the door, behind which there were several armed guards. Except that there was nothing she could use for a weapon. There was literally _nothing_ in this stupid little room. Not even a light, she realized, when the sun finished its descent to the horizon, plunging the space into darkness. By the last of the setting sun, she went to the bathroom again and looked around, desperate for _anything_ she could use against the men holding her. There was nothing. The piping under the sink was so old she couldn't get it to budge. The toilet was old and gross and anything she could have been used had already been removed. She grabbed the sink and closed her eyes, wishing for a solution. Then she opened and looked at herself in the mirror, feeling helpless and trapped. _The mirror. _It was a real mirror, heavy and permanently attached to the wall. She ran her hands along the edges, trying to see if she could get it off, but it wasn't about to move.

"Shoot, shoot, shoot," Felicity tried one more time to pull off the mirror, but no luck. It was almost dark in the room now. The street lights outside cast long, menacing shadows over her little cell. She heard movement outside, light from the hallway beyond spilling under the crack of the door. She considered her options. She needed a way out, which meant she needed a weapon. These men didn't expect her to do anything to save herself—they thought she was a timid secretary of a spoiled CEO. Or, at least, she hoped that's what they thought of her. The only idea she could come up with seemed stupid and brash, but as the darkness settled over the dank space, she decided it was now or never. She took a deep breath, slipping off her high heels, because dashing down stairs in heels wasn't something she could do without falling on her face. She tossed them behind the toilet, where no one would notice them until it was too late. Taking a deep breath, she raised her elbow and smashed it into the mirror. _Ow. _Nothing. At least it hadn't even made that loud of a sound. She mustered all the courage and strength she could, raising her elbow a second time. This time she was rewarded with a small crack in the center of the mirror. On the third attempt, the mirror shattered. There was no way the guards could miss the sound, so she cried out in pain. It hurt like hell, but she had managed to grab a large piece of the mirror that had become dislodged.

She quickly threw herself to the ground in the open doorway between the bathroom and the main room, ignoring the pain that was radiating from her elbow and the tiny bites of glass that she must be laying on. The door to the room was thrown open, light from the hallway spilling in.

"What the hell?" The guard, advancing on her with his gun raised. Felicity focused hard on not breathing. The man nudged her with the toe of his boot, but when she didn't move he tucked the gun behind him as he bent down to check her pulse. She moved then, swinging her arm up and around and plunging the shard from the mirror into the man's neck. She tried not to think about the sickening gurgle or the way the flood of warm stickiness that quickly coated her hands. _Focus_, she heard Digg say to her. _Get the weapon, get communication, get out_. She choked down the strangled sob threatening to escape as the man fell toward her. She moved out from under him and patted the back of his jeans. She grabbed the gun, which was thankfully some sort of small handheld instead of the larger automatic weapons some of Starling City's underbelly seemed to favor. The cool weapon felt foreign in her hands, even though Digg had taught her to shoot. She found a phone, pocketing it as she heard steps moving quickly toward the room. She dashed behind the door. _Focus, focus, focus. _ The second man came in, clearing the room before he entered, but not looking behind the door. As he moved cautiously toward the form on the floor near the bathroom, Felicity raised the gun and hit him over the head with the butt of the weapon. She didn't know if it was hard enough to knock him out, and she didn't stick around long enough to find out.

She sprinted out the door, trying to look for additional guards as her mind screamed for her to run. She saw the stairwell they had lead her up hours before, and was nearly to it when another guard came from a door just beyond, surprise on his face. He was starting to pull his weapon, so Felicity raised hers, failing to take time to aim properly, and squeezed off a shot. It was enough to make him dunk for cover, giving her a window of opportunity to fly down the stairs. She didn't see any other guards and she flew down the three flights of stairs, but she could hear heavy footfalls behind her as the last guy (and maybe the one she hit on the head too) gave chase. She pushed through the door into the cold night air. She looked left, then right, and chose left because it was the darker of the two directions. She ran as fast as she could, cutting down the first alley she could find. Two more quick turns and she paused for a moment, listening. She couldn't hear any telltale signs of pursuit, so she pulled the phone out and spent a precious minute dialing Oliver's number and typing out quick two word text. Then she could hear them again, coming up the alley at a quick pace again. Putting the phone back in her pocket, she ran, her stocking feet stinging against the cold, unforgiving asphalt.


	8. Damage Control

Chapter 8 – Damage Control

Oliver was sitting next to Diggle, scanning through Felicity's research for _something_ that would give them an idea of Merlyn's whereabouts when his phone buzzed, indicating a new text. He glanced at it and almost ignored it. He didn't recognize the number and they had less than an hour until Merlyn's scheduled meeting. He couldn't give Malcolm Merlyn what he wanted, and he refused to accept the alternative Merlyn had given him—Felicity dead, her light forever gone from the world. He thumbed his phone though, and glanced at the text. He read the message, and suddenly hope flooded him. He sat up straighter and inhaled sharply. "Digg," he said, turning the phone so his friend could see the message. _Track me_.

Digg's eyes widened. "Felicity?" he asked, and his voice sounded hopeful too. As he took the phone and turned to the computer to initiate a trace, Oliver grabbed his hood. Finally, it was time for action. Within minutes he was placing the comm link in his ear and pocketing the phone as headed for his motorcycle.

Digg directed him deep into the belly of the Glades. "She's moving fast, Oliver," he said. "North on an alley between Eaton and Sherman." Oliver gunned the bike. "Four more blocks than hang a left," Digg said. "Shit, it looks like she went into a building." Oliver cursed. Someone had to be chasing her. "Looks like . . . 342 Eaton."

"Got it," Oliver growled. He was quickly off his bike and into the building. He used the fire escape and entered on the second floor, listening. He heard something coming from somewhere down the hall and he moved cautiously, bow drawn. Then there was a smash, and scuffle, but this time from above. He found the stairs and was taking them two at a time when Digg's voice cut in again. "She's back outside the building." Oliver quickly turned, shouldering his bow, and headed back down the stairs, taking them to the front door of the building. "She's coming toward you from the alley," Digg said. He was out on the street and barreling toward the alley when he collided into her. She was coming around the corner when she ran into him. Her breath wooshed out as she collided with him, and he narrowly managed to block the fist that inexplicably headed toward his face. She cried out as he grabbed her wrist, and he said her name then.

"Oliver!" She cried, and then her arms were around him and she pressed herself into him. He allowed himself a moment to wrap his arms around her, one hand pulling her against him while the other fisted in her hair. He breathed her in, safe and alive and in his arms. _Where she belonged._ Her voice pulled him back to reality as she pushed back from him, urgency in her voice. "They are right behind me. I can't see, my glasses. . . "

He realized her glasses were missing from her face and a dark bruise was forming along her temple. He grabbed her hand, pulling her behind him and putting it on his hip. "Don't let go, and stay with me," he said, pulling his bow off his shoulder and nocking an arrow at the ready. "We're going to go backward." They moved slowly backward, toward his bike, as he swept the area for her pursuers. Someone came around the corner and he fired. It was one of the exploding arrows, and it forced whoever was following her back long enough for them to reach the bike. He quickly stowed his bow and quiver, shoving the helmet over her head even as she objected. She climbed on behind him her hands fisting in the material of his jacket as he gunned the bike.

As they sped toward Verdant, he relished in the feeling of knowing that she was safe. "Oliver?" He heard Diggle's questioning voice in his ear, and realized he hadn't told him that they were clear.

"I've got her, John. She's safe." He heard his friend sigh in relief. Felicity's hands squeezed into his stomach and he felt her head turn.

"He's okay?" He could barely hear her over the wind and the roar of the motorcycle.

"Yeah," he said. "He's okay." He felt her grip tighten again, both feeling and hearing the sob that escaped her. He almost pulled over, the need to wrap her up and hold her close nearly overwhelmed him. Instead, he focused on her arms banded around his waist.

When they arrived at the Foundry, she stumbled of f the bike and pulled the helmet off. She made a mad dash for the stairs to the basement, keying in the code and pulling the door open. He came behind her, watching as she stumbled down the stairs and ran full tilt toward Digg, who was waiting for her. She threw her arms around him with such force that he let out an "oof" of surprise.

"I thought you were dead," she cried, pulling back to look at his arm. Oliver felt a bit like an outsider as he watched them.

"I'm tough to kill," Diggle smiled. "You okay?"

She sniffed, and nodded. "I'm cold, and I can't see," she said, "but I'm home."

Oliver realized she didn't have any shoes on, and that she had her arms wrapped tightly around herself. She was still wearing the blue dress she had put on that morning, which had three-quarter length sleeves and ended just above her knees. No wonder she was freezing. He grabbed a blanket and handed it to her, then retrieved her spare set of glasses from her purse.

She smiled up at him gratefully, and then turned back to Diggle. "You should go home and get some rest," she said, looking at him critically. "I'm pretty sure you should be in a hospital or something."

Diggle glanced at his watch, then looked at Oliver. "Meet with Merlyn's supposed to be in thirty." Oliver could see the question in his friend's eyes, wondering what their next move would be.

"I doubt there will be a meet," Oliver said. "News has to have gotten back to him that Felicity got away. I probably should go to the mansion and talk to my family. Thea needs to know . . ."

Felicity looked between him and Diggle, her brow raised in confusion. He saw again the bruise and cut above her eye. He realized there was blood caked not only in her hairline, but also along the sleeve of her dress and on her hands. He found that incredibly disturbing. "Why don't you clean up and change," he said to her. "And I will explain. Digg, go home and get some rest—call me in the morning and we'll figure out our next move." Digg nodded, clasping him on the shoulder. He leaned down and kissed Felicity on the forehead, then headed to the stairs.

Felicity went to the small bathroom she had put in during the renovation over the summer and came back out dressed in the black pants she usually trained in. Oliver had changed back in to his street clothes while she had been gone. She had on a longsleeve shirt, but still had her arms wrapped around her, trying to warm herself. He took one of his hoodies off the table and passed it to her. "Here. You look like you are freezing." She pulled it on without a word, and he motioned for her to sit on the table. "Let me look at your face," he said. She sighed, and did as he asked. It worried him, more than a little bit, that she was so quiet. Her feet dangled as she sat on the table, covered in sneakers now.

"How'd this happen, anyway?" He asked, gently cleaning the wound on her head.

She sighed. "I was doing pretty good for myself until they caught up to me. That's why I went into that building, to try and lose them." His breath caught a little, wanting to ask how she got away, feeling proud that she had managed to hold her own and find a way to let him know where she was. "One of them caught me though, and he knocked me down." Her hand came up and touched her bruised temple. "That's when I lost my glasses. I . . . I think I hit my head on something."

Oliver placed a butterfly bandage over the cut, then gently touched her shoulder. "All done." He took a deep breath, almost hating to ask the next question. "Are you hurt anywhere else?" When she shook her head, he didn't believe her. "You had blood on your hands when you came in." She shook her head again, and while he wanted to ask her more questions, he recognized the guarded look in her eyes. She had always respected his desire to keep his secrets, and he would do the same for her. He would give her at least a little time to process things.

"So," she said softly. "Thea?"

He sighed. "Yeah, Thea. Let's go, I will explain in the car." He had called his sister and his mother, making sure both would be at the mansion when they got there.

"Car?" She said, sounding confused.

He sighed. "Malcolm Merlyn is Thea's biological father. That's why he took you, he wanted Thea . . . " He watched as her mouth opened in a little oh of horror. "My mother said he just wants a family . . . he isn't getting my sister. I'm worried that he'll try to grab her, since apparently he's been planning on using me to get her for a while."

Felicity nodded, heading for the stairs. "Drop me at home on the way?" She said when they got to the car.

He stared at her. The thought of simply dropping her off at home, of not being able to keep her close, sent a shot of darkness through him. "No," he said, climbing into the car.

She climbed in too, and looked at him. "No?" He found her single word questions incredibly disconcerting . . . it just wasn't _Felicity_.

He looked at her, and before he could stop himself he was reaching to cup her cheek. Her breath hitched, and she looked a bit like she was considering opening the door and making a run for it. He slid his thumb along her cheekbone. "This was a little too close for comfort, Felicity."

She sighed, and covered his hand with hers. "I'm fine, Oliver. You should be with your family."

He reluctantly pulled his hand back and started the car, needing to put space between them before he did something stupid. He swallowed, trying to compose himself as he pulled out of the lot at Verdant.

"If you hadn't gotten yourself out, Felicity . . . " He sighed, hating to even think about it. "I just need you close right now, okay." His voice was growing thick, and he hated it. He could not need her this much. And yet he did. "I . . . just . . . " He shook his head.

"Okay, Oliver, okay." She sounded resigned.

They drove in silence the rest of the way. He wondered if this is how she felt, when it was obvious something was weighing on him and he didn't talk about it. It was difficult, knowing that whatever had happened today was weighing on her, but that she didn't want to talk about it. Whatever had happened had cost her, he could see it in her eyes. He could hear it in the way her voice lacked its usual lightness. He hated the absence of that lightness, and felt personally responsible for it. He hated not being able to make it better. He'd never been on the receiving end of the silence from her before.

Xxx

Felicity leaned her head back, nearly dozing on the way to Queen Manor. She just wanted to go home and go to sleep, forgetting that this day had ever happened; forgetting that she had most likely killed someone today. That knowledge weighed heavier on her than any of the rest of it. All too soon, they were walking through the Queen's front door. Moira was there, and she smiled at Felicity. "I'm so glad you are safe Ms. Smoak," she said, pointing them to the living room. Felicity tried to smile, but she couldn't muster it.

Thea was sitting in the living room on the couch, Roy by her side. He had his arm protectively around Thea. Felicity immediately felt that she did not belong, surrounded by these beautiful, well-dressed women in their opulent mansion. She stood near the door, arms crossed. Oliver gave her a reassuring look, and then sat next to his mother, looking at her expectantly.

Moira crossed her legs and looked between Oliver and Thea. Felicity groaned internally, it was going to be a long night like this. Oliver cleared his throat, and looked to Thea. "You . . . you may have heard what happened this morning at Queen Consolidated," he began. Thea nodded, and looked toward Felicity, then looked between Oliver and her mother. The silence was thick and heavy, in the air.

Felicity groaned, rubbing her hand over her temple. Moira turned to her. "Is there a problem Ms. Smoak?" Felicity's head shot up, and she met Oliver's incredulous gaze.

"Mother!" He said.

"I'm sorry Oliver, but I know she's had a rough day, but why is she here for this."

Thea looked utterly confused, and Oliver scrubbed his face over his hands. Felicity lost it. She well and truly lost it.

She laughed, a mirthless, horrible sound. "Look, I don't really be here for this either. But I am. I am tired, and I've been through hell and I'm pretty sure I _killed a man_ today_, _so SORRY if I am out of patience." Oliver stood up, and she could see the shock in his eyes. Thea's widened too, and she looked to Roy. " Thea, your mom has something to tell you and it might make you mad, but you don't get to run away because your safety is at stake. You can be mad at me for being here, or your brother or your mom or _whatever_!" She threw her arms out to the sides, realizing she should shut up, but not caring. "But you don't get to be mad and storm out of here, because _it is dangerous_, and this isn't a joke."

Thea looked to her mother now, eyes wide. "Mom? What's she talking about?"

Felicity felt panic rising up, and she quickly rushed into the hallway, trying hard to pull in breaths. She heard Oliver coming behind her, and she really didn't want him here to witness this. "Your family . . . " she gasped out.

His hands were on his shoulders. "They are fine. Just breath."

She choked out a little sob, and then he was pulling her into his arms. "Damn it, Felicity, why didn't you say something?"

She shook her head into his chest, holding on to him like a lifeline while she pulled herself back together.

Oliver held her until she calmed down. She felt safer encircled by his warmth, like she didn't have to try so hard to keep all the darkness at bay. When she had finally stopped crying and was breathing normally, Oliver stepped back. "Stay here," he said. "Just give me one minute to make sure they are okay, and we'll go upstairs." She nodded, and he was back almost before she could register he was gone. He took her elbow and led her upstairs.

"I'm sorry about that back there," she said. She was sure she'd be mortified later, but right now she simply felt . . . numb.

He shrugged. "It worked, I think," he said. "Mom had told her, and Thea wasn't as mad I was expecting."

She found herself being pushed down on a plush couch in an ornate, distinctly masculine room. Oliver's? She didn't know. She really didn't care. She was just so very tired.

"Talk, Felicity," Oliver said, and it was in his Arrow voice, the one that brooked no argument. He was crouched down in front of her, looking at her with an intensity she couldn't name.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "It was getting dark, and I was so worried about Digg, and about you. And I knew you couldn't find me and that whatever was going to happen, it was going to be soon, so I knew I needed to get out. But there was nothing in there I could use. I broke a mirror, and I took a piece of glass. When the guard came . . . I . . . I . . . there was so much blood." She heard him exhale harshly, and she just wanted to finish it. She wanted this day to be over. "So I took his gun and his phone and I ran."

He took her hands and she looked up at him. Intense deep blue eyes bore into her. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, Felicity, but I'm not sorry that he's dead." She opened her mouth to say something, but the look in his eyes stopped her. He looked tortured and confused, and very nearly in pain. He swallowed, the continued. "If you hadn't gotten away, I _wouldn't_ have been able to find you Felicity. We were trying, but we were running out of time and . . . " He exhaled. "He told me he was going to kill you, and you are here because you got away. _You saved yourself_, Felicity." His hand found her cheek again, and she leaned into him. "You should probably get some rest," he said.

She looked at the bed, then looked at him. Oh . . . no, no, no. Oliver could not possibly mean that she should sleep in his room. "I'll take the couch," he said, reading her face again. "I almost lost you today, Felicity. I just . . . I need you here, okay?"

She nodded, not really wanting to argue, because she felt better with him here. It was simply a fact, despite everything. It had been a fact for a long time.

He pulled back the covers on the bed while she took off her shoes, then disappeared through a huge door into what she suspected was the closet, since he emerged in shorts and a worn grey t-shirt. She climbed into bed, watching him as he settled into the couch. "Goodnight, Felicity," he whispered softly. She closed her eyes, and gave in to sleep.


	9. More Questions Than Answers

Chapter 9-More Questions Than Answers

He watched her sleep for a long time, taking in the bruise on her temple. Taking in the fact that she had _killed_ someone to escape what Malcolm Merlyn had in store for her. He was equal parts proud of her and horrified, unable to decide which of those two emotions was stronger. Proud because she had outsmarted armed men, and horrified because she had taken a life—something that she would never needed to do if he hadn't brought her in to his world. But he could hear her response if she knew his thought process. _My life, my choice_. Would her thoughts on that change, now that she had been forced to take a life?

She cried out in her sleep, flailing a little, and he was next to her before he even realized he was getting off the couch. "Shhh, you're safe," he said softly, reaching out and touching the ends of her soft blonde hair. She sighed, and he could swear she had said his name as she did it. Did she dream of him, as he dreamed of her? The thought filled him with equal parts hope and despair. He found the sight of her in his bed, surrounded by his things, comforting and so unbelievably right. And arousing as hell. He took a deep breath and stepped away, not trusting himself to be so close to her. He went to the couch and stretched out. He watched her until he drifted off to sleep.

Xxx

Felicity woke to soft, warm sunlight. It took her a moment to remember where she was and why. She sat up and groped for her glasses. She was surprised, when she put them on, to see Oliver stretched out on the couch across the room. He was still asleep, his feet hanging off the end. She'd never seen Oliver asleep before, and he looked younger somehow. Gone was the ever-present weight he seemed to carry with him everywhere. He looked at peace. She remembered his words from a few mornings before_. "I dream," he had admitted. "Or rather, remember. So I try to avoid sleep unless I'm tired enough to do it dreamlessly." _It seemed wrong, that after everything he had been through, that he couldn't find peace in sleep. Except it seemed that for now at least, he was at peace.

She looked around the room and saw her purse on Oliver's beautiful antique desk. She went over and dug out her cellphone, being as quiet as possible in an effort not to wake Oliver. She still couldn't believe he was sleeping later than her. He must have been exhausted. The cold floor under her feet reminded her of the night before, and she quickly climbed back into the still-warm bed. She texted Digg to see how he was doing, then checked her emails. She realized she had no idea what had happened after she was taken yesterday, and quickly searched the news sites to see what had been reported. "Stellmore International Executive Arrested" read one headline. She saw several other articles mentioning her abduction. Oh . . . apparently she had missed _a lot_. She wondered if anyone had bothered to let Detective Lance know she had been found.

Her phone buzzed, and she saw a response from Digg. _On my way to you - no rest for the weary._

She texted him back. _Too much to ask for you to go get me things from my apartment? _She hated to ask it of him, but she didn't have much of a choice. She didn't have a car here and she knew they would have a lot to deal with today. Not to mention Oliver would have a fit if she went anywhere without him. She should probably wake him, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. He just looked so relaxed, and she wouldn't take that away from him.

Her phone buzzed again, and she glanced at John's reply. _I appear to be the assistant today_.

She smiled, and sent him a quick thank you, then went back to her emails, responding to requests from the board of directors to meet with Oliver regarding the issue with Isabel, and making up an excuse for his apparent absence yesterday. _Mr. Queen was concerned for the safety of his staff members and decided it was best to spend the rest of the day with his family. _She set up a meeting with the board at 11, and another with PR after lunch.

She heard rustling from the couch, and looked up to see Oliver stretching as he woke. She had always found the man incredibly attractive, but watching him slowly wake . . . _good lord. _ She tried to ignore the rush of heat she felt as she watched him. He turned his head and looked at her, smiling as he sat up. "Hey," he said, his voice still heavy with sleep.

"Hey, back," she said softly, still trying to recover her composure. It should be against the law to look that good. But then, he didn't have a playboy reputation for nothing. She really should try and remember that. She forcibly reminded herself of the fiasco with Isabel. If anything would put a damper on the attraction she was feeling, she knew that would do it.

He stretched again, looking sleepy and confused. He looked at the window, then his watch, then back to the window. "Huh."

She chuckled, unable to help herself. "Has it really been _that_ long since you woke up after the sun."

He simply quirked an eyebrow at her, and damn it all, there was that heat again. Thankfully Diggle chose that moment to knock on the door. He entered, carrying coffees. One of the house staff was trailing behind him with her bag. Felicity jumped up and gratefully took the bag, thanking the woman as she turned to leave. Once the door closed, Digg said "So . . .What's the plan?"

"How are you feeling?" Oliver asked him, nodding to his shoulder.

Digg shrugged his good shoulder. "Sore, but I'll live. Harder than hell to drive with your arm in a sling."

"Thanks for picking up my things," Felicity said, feeling terrible that she had added to his list of things to do this morning.

"I was planning on it anyway, we have a meeting with Lance in an hour, so you had better get ready."

Oh. Lance. Of course the police would want to know what had happened. She closed her eyes, feeling suddenly sick as she realized she would have to tell them how she had escaped. She would have to tell them all the details, and they would have to go check and see if she had indeed killed that man. Her thoughts must have shown on her face, because Oliver was there, his hand on her elbow. "Why don't you use the bathroom first, okay?" She looked up, and his blue eyes were firm and steady as they held hers. She held his gaze until she calmed down, allowing his presence to ground her. Then she nodded, dragging the bag toward the bathroom. She didn't really have time for a shower, but she was going to take one anyway.

Xxx

As soon as Felicity closed the bathroom door, Digg looked to Oliver. "What was that all about?" He asked. Felicity had turned ashen as soon as he had mentioned Lance.

Oliver exhaled, scrubbing his hands over his face. "She thinks she killed someone last night, in order to get away."

Digg sat down with on the edge of the bed, shock in his face. "Oh."

"Yeah," Oliver said. "You called Lance last night?"

Digg nodded. "When you guys were on your ways back. As Arrow, of course," he said with a half smile. "He'll meet us at the office, as a courtesy." He nodded toward the bathroom door. "Is she okay?"

"I don't know Digg, she was pretty out of it last night." Oliver looked worried as he glanced toward the bathroom door. "She saved herself though, John, there's no doubt about that." Digg watched his friend as he watched the door, his eyes glazing over as he went somewhere else for a bit. He imagined Oliver felt somewhat responsible for Felicity's loss of innocence. Hell, he felt responsible too. But he wasn't sorry that he had taught her how to defend herself. He was just sorry that it had come to that.

The door opened and Felicity same out, dressed in a red bell dress that Diggle had randomly pulled from her closet. Her still damp hair was pulled up in a pony tail, a riot of curls. Oliver quirked his head as he considered Felicity, and he wondered what the other man was thinking. The bruise at Felicity's temple had grown and was an ugly shade of deep purple. She rubbed her hand at it self-consciously. "No help for this . . . " she said softly. She looked at Oliver. "Bathroom is all yours—better hurry if we're going to make that meeting with Lance."

Oliver nodded, touching her shoulder gently as he went. Diggle watched as she closed her eyes at his touch, exhaling carefully. As Oliver shut the door, she sat on the couch and looked at him. She sighed. "He told you."

Digg just nodded, and her eyes filled with tears. "You did what you had to Felicity."

"Yeah, but . . ." she sniffed. "It doesn't make it any easier." She wiped furiously at her tears. "I heard you though, when I was trying to get away. Your voice told me what I needed to do."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that Felicity. I should have . . . "

She cut him off, stopping him from taking the blame for her capture on himself. "They didn't give us a shot, Digg. They planned it out well. Not your fault."

"It's not your fault either," he said softly.

She shrugged. "It's going to be a long day."

xxx

She'd had no idea how long, really. When Lance had come to meet with them, he had informed them that there had been a "snafu" with Isabel. Someone had shown up with transfer papers and she was now unaccounted for. Oliver had been livid. Then Lance had her recount her escape. That had been loads of fun. Next he had asked her if she could tell him where she had been held. She had shaken her head, but then offered that she would probably know it if she saw it. Before she really knew what was happening, Oliver was growling to Lance that she had been through enough as Lance was trying to lead her toward the door. Digg had stepped in, reassuring Oliver that he would keep her safe. Oliver had reluctantly agreed, his jaw clenching. She felt a little bad for leaving him to face the board alone, but then again she would rather be doing that then the alternative. She and Diggle rode in the back of Lance's police cruiser through the Glades as they searched for the building she had been held at.

It took them a good hour to find the building. When they finally did, Lance went to investigate. When he came back, he radioed for a medical examiner. Felicity was glad it was Diggle who had come, because she wasn't sure she could handle losing it in front of Oliver again. She did lose it then, and John wrapped her up in his huge, iron arms and whispered to her that she was incredible and brave and strong, and that he was so glad she was his friend. Which made her cry more. Eventually Lance took them back to the office, and he must have asked her more questions, but she really couldn't remember what they were.

When Lance dropped them off at Queen Consolidated, Diggle simply led her to the car. She looked at him and started to object, but he simply shook his head. "I think that was enough for now, Felicity. My shoulder needs a break, anyway." She sighed and gratefully climbed into the back seat. Digg was absolutely the best. She fell asleep in the car, the morning having taken its toll.

xxx

Diggle woke her when they arrived at her apartment. Her legs felt like lead as she scaled the stairs. It felt like a lifetime ago since she had last been here, not just yesterday morning. Despite her nap in the car, she still felt exhausted. She supposed it was the shock of her whole situation. She sighed, throwing her keys on the table and lowering herself on to the couch. Digg sat at the other end, pulling his arm out of the sling with a groan. "Got some water?" He asked.

She got up, brought him a glass and watched him down a couple of pills that she assumed were for the pain. "Hurting?" She asked, and realized it was a stupid question.

Digg nodded. "I think I'm ready for a nap myself," he chuckled. "You probably should pack a real bag."

His words made no sense to her. She raised her hands in confusion.

"Felicity," he said slowly, Merlyn is still out there. Lance is going to put a couple of units outside the Queen residence, and I beefed up security, but Oliver is going to want to keep close. You and I both know our Merlyn can get through anything if he puts his mind to it. And Oliver wants to keep _you_ close, so . . ."

Holy crap, she really could use some space from brooding overprotective men. The thought of staying in Oliver's room again made her a little dizzy. She'd had a hard enough time this morning, even with the trauma of the day before hanging over her. This was just going to get harder and harder to deal with every single day. She needed _space_.

She groaned, throwing a blanket at Digg as she headed to her bedroom. She packed a bag and straightened the mess from the day before. Feeling idle, she scrubbed her bathroom and then moved to the kitchen, wiping the counters. She ran out of things to do about two hours in to her cleaning project. She sighed and perched herself on the kitchen counter. She found her phone and texted Lance to see if there was anything new on Isabel or the man she had killed.

Within ten minutes, she had an update from him. He sent over the transcript from the interview they had conducted with Isabel, prior to her transfer-turned-escape, as well as a file with information about her captor. She pulled out her tablet and, steeling herself, opened the file. Lenny Grainger, 35, priors for breaking and entering, larceny, and assault with a deadly weapon. At least he was a criminal. That should have made it better. But it didn't. She set up searches with Grainger, the property she had been held at, and anything connecting them to either Isabel or Merlyn. Next she checked on the items from Blood and Daily. She had no idea if the Arrow would be going out tonight, with all of the grim things hanging over Oliver's family, but if he wanted to she wanted to be prepared.

There was a soft knock at the door, and she hurried over to look through the peephole, hoping it wouldn't wait Diggle. She saw Oliver on the other side and quickly opened the door. He had one arm up, leaning against the frame, his eyes locking on her the moment she opened the door. He just stood there, his intense eyes swimming with unspoken emotion as his jaw clenched. She wondered what on earth had him looking so freaked.

"Did things not go well in the meetings today?"

He shook his head, stepping in to her apartment. "No, it was fine."

She was confused. "So what's wrong?" She crossed her arms, not at all sure what was going on here.

He stuck his hands in his pockets, shaking his head. He looked at Diggle then. "He looks worn out."

"Yeah, I think the morning took its toll. He's been out for hours." She led Oliver to the kitchen, where they would be less likely to bother their sleeping friend. "So what's the plan for tonight?"

He looked at her for a second, tilting his head as If he wanted to ask her something, but then thought better of it. "I think after everything yesterday, a night off would be warrented."

"Diggle said you want me to come to the mansion," she said, sounding less than thrilled.

"Yes." She glared at him, and he added, "Please?" She chuckled at that. "I want you to have dinner with my family."

"Whaaattttt?" She may have screeched. Shit. She hoped she didn't wake up John.

Oliver quirked his lips at her, and she was glad to see some of the tension ease out of him. "My mother still sees you as my assistant," he said softly, and she couldn't help but notice the tenderness in his voice.

"I am your assistant," she said, pointing out the obvious.

"You aren't _just _my assistant. You know that. You are so much more than that. I want her to know that—my _family_ to know that."

"'That's right, Mrs. Queen, I also assist your son during his _night job_ as well,'" she teased. "That would go over well." He shrugged. "And then, what, you are going to sleep on the couch in your room again?" God, why did she have to say what she was thinking? But she was annoyed—she really wasn't sure how she could handle another twelve hours of being around him constantly without burning alive.

"Felicity," he said carefully. She tilted her head and waited. "I seriously haven't slept that good in . . .years." _Oh._ Whatever she'd been expecting, that wasn't it. His jaw was working again. "I _really _don't like having you out of my sight right now, after yesterday. He's still out there."

She threw her hands in the air. "Merlyn generally doesn't keep doing the same thing over and over expecting a different result, Oliver. I doubt he's going to grab me again."

He shook his head. "Not a gamble I'm willing to make, Felicity. Even if you were _down the hall_, I would worry. I've fought more than one man in that mansion, so I know people can get in. The only way I'm getting any rest tonight is if you stay in my bed." Her eyes widened, and he grimiced. "You know what I mean!"

She couldn't help it, she laughed.

"What's so funny in here?" Diggle asked, coming in from the living room.

"Nice nap, Sleeping Beauty?" Felicity asked.

He crossed his arms over his chest and just raised an eyebrow.

"Since we have a couple of hours before we need to be anywhere," Felicity said, "would anyone like to know what I've dug up on our current bad guys . . . and girl?" Soon they were on her living room floor, discussing, planning and strategizing.

xxx

Oliver leaned against the back of the plush seat in the Bentley, watching the sun set as Diggle drove them toward the mansion. Felicity sat staring out the opposite window, fidgeting her hands. "What if I screw this up?" She asked suddenly.

"Hmm?"

"Your family. What if I let something slip? I'm not good at the cover stories, Oliver."

He quirked a smile at her. "Just stick as close to the truth as you can," he reminded her.

"Why are you making me do this, again?" She sighed.

He could tell from the way that she asked it that she wasn't expecting an answer from him. At least not a serious one. But he couldn't help himself. Spending the morning watching Officer Lance make her relive the previous day and then dealing with business matters without him by his side had left him feeling on edge and more than a little dependent on her. "Thea's dealing with all this new stuff. I need to be there for her. I'm still no good at the day-to-day stuff Felicity. It'll be easier having you with me."

She looked at him, her mouth falling open a little in surprise. He couldn't help but smile. "Why do you keep saying stuff like that to me?"

He shrugged. "Because it's the truth." It was getting harder to deny that. He wasn't even sure he wanted to anymore.

He could swear that he heard Diggle laugh in the driver's seat.


	10. Of Training and Computer Searches

_AN: Thanks all for the great reviews. This is really coming together now . . . this is more of a transitional chapter. This is mostly done in my head now, just a matter of getting it OUT. Enjoy!_

Chapter 10 – Of Training and Computer Searches

"So, Ms. Smoak, I'm not sure I've ever heard the story of how you came to be Oliver's E.A.?"

Oliver groaned internally. Of course his mother would bring that up immediately after they sat down.

"Well," Felicity said, turning to smile at him. At least it probably looked like a smile to his family. She clenched her mouth and gave him a _you are in such big trouble _look that only he could see. He almost laughed. His sister noticed that, because her eyes flew suddenly to Felicity with more interest than she had shown all night. "Oliver spilled a latte on his computer, and he needed it repaired."

"You used to work in IT, correct?" His mother clarified.

"Yup. Anyway, I helped him with some little things, and we . . . ended up . . . being friends?" She looked at him, floundering a little with explaining why she was currently his assistant.

"Felicity went to MIT," he said, "and she's absolutely brilliant with numbers."

"And he _did _get a D in tenth grade algebra," Felicity chuckled. His mother tilted her head in surprise at that, and looked between the two of them with thoughtful, observant eyes.

"She helps me, with my lack of _any_ college degree, wade through all the stuff I'm ill-equipt for."

"Which is . . . oh, everything," Felicity teased.

"Now that's not true. I'm good with . . . people," he laughed.

This got Thea started. "Especially the ones with skirts!"

Felicity laughed and raised her eyebrows. "You don't know the half of it," she said, making Thea laugh.

"So Speedy, no Roy tonight?" He hadn't been keeping as close of tabs on Roy as he should have been since the whole Merlyn thing had resurfaced. He needed to rectify that.

"No . . . " She glanced at their mother, than back to him. "He um, had other things to do."

He made a mental note to ask her more about that—she looked sad and more than a little nervous, making him wonder if something had happened.

Dinner went better than he would have expected. Felicity spent most of the time chatting with Thea about inconsequential things. His mother just sat back and watched them all. Felicity occasionally closed her eyes and moaned appreciatively over whatever the cook had dreamed up for them for dinner. She sipped the wine and closed her eyes every single time, reveling in the flavor. He spent more time than he should of watching her, but he didn't care in that moment. Let them see. This was, after all, his family. If he couldn't show them the part of himself that enjoyed being around Felicity, then he couldn't show them anything.

After dinner, his mother excused herself to go upstairs. Thea raised an eyebrow at Felicity. "Are you as boring as my brother, or do you actually enjoy television."

Felicity laughed, and looped her arm through Thea's. "Only good TV. Don't make me watch that reality crap."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"So what happened with Roy, Speedy?" He asked, looping his arm through her other one.

She slowed and glanced at Felicity. "She's good," he said.

"Something's off with him, Ollie," she sighed. "He's been acting strange for awhile, but now he's just cutting me out. Yesterday . . ." She looked again and Felicity, and then decided to go with it. "Yesterday he put a guy in the hospital."

Felicity's eyes widened and she met his eyes over the top of Thea's head. Not good. The Arrow would have to talk to Roy sooner rather than later.

"Soo," Felicity said, tugging on Thea's arm to distract her. "Dr. Who? Or something else?"

Thea laughed. "You are the guest. You pick. Ollie will get us some popcorn, won't you Ollie?"

Felicity groaned. "How can you eat? That was twice the amount of food I usually eat in a day!"

Thea flopped in the middle of the couch, pulling Felicity down next to her on one side. He sat on the other. This was the whole point of being here tonight—she had to be feeling overwhelmed with everything right now.

"So how are you doing with the 'big news,' anyway?" Felicity asked, actually putting air quotes around "big news." Leave it to her to bring up the elephant in the room without a second thought.

Thea looked at her and laughed. "Where on earth did Ollie manage to find you?"

"I thought we already covered that. IT department." She wiggled her eyebrows at the younger girl.

Thea laughed, then turned instantly serious. "It's weird, ya know? My dad wasn't really my dad. Tommy was my half brother. Did you know I _kissed _him once?"

WHAT?

But Thea was continuing to ramble to Felicity. "And the person who really is my dad blackmailed my mom into killing hundreds of people. What does that say about _me_, anyway?"

Felicity wrapped an arm around Thea. "It doesn't say anything about you. You're still exactly the same person. Your dad, Oliver's dad, the man who raised you—he's the one that makes a difference. I never knew my real Dad, growing up. But my mom remarried when I was little—like three, I think. And he never treated me differently, he always loved me like I was his own. _He _was my dad. Not the guy who provided the sperm for my conception."

Oliver looked at Felicity, surprised, but she was holding his sister's gaze. He was reminded again how little he knew about her.

They started a show. Thea joked with him here and there, but mostly she and Felicity joked and laughed and poked each other. It felt so overwhelmingly normal. And right. He couldn't get over how right everything felt with her. At some point, he looked over and Thea was slumped over, her head on Felicity's shoulder, sound asleep.

"Psst," he said poking Thea's shoulder. "Bed time, Speedy."

"Being a grown up is tiring," she moaned, climbing up. She kissed him on the cheek. "Good night, Ollie." And then she whispered in his ear, "I approve, you know."

"'Night, Speedy."

Thea waved to Felicity and then headed toward the stairs. Felicity exhaled, rolling her head to look at him.. She looked at him with sleepy eyes and smiled. And damned if it didn't turn him on. He wanted to reach for her hand, or better yet kiss her again. But he'd made such a damn mess of things the last time he'd kissed her, he knew it was entirely too soon for him to do it again.

"That wasn't so bad, now, was it?" He asked.

"Nope," she said, popping the p. Especially not the part where there was really amazing wine."

He chuckled, and pulled her to her feet. "You were great with Thea. Although I can _not_ believe she kissed Tommy. That's just . . . "

"Weird?" He chuckled again, and nodded. Unable to remember the last time dinner and time with his family had made him feel this lighthearted.

Upstairs, Felicity took the bathroom first. When she came out, she leveled him with a severe look. "There's no way I can talk you in to sleeping in your own bed?" He shook his head. "And how long are you going to insist on this ridiculous arrangement?"

"Until Merlyn is caught and I know you'll be safe at your own place." He wasn't being honest with her, or with himself when he said that.

She sighed and mumbled to herself as she climbed into bed. "What are we going to do about Roy?"

Ah, yes, Roy. "I'm going to have to train him. Try to help him learn to control it."

"Can he do that?"

"I hope so." Slade hadn't been able to, but the circumstances were different. The island fueled Slade's rage. Oliver hoped that he could redirect Roy toward a better purpose.

"What will you need?"

"A place to train—I'm not taking him to the Foundry, for obvious reasons."

She nodded, and rolled over to get her phone off the nightstand. "I'll get on that tomorrow."

He looked at her blonde hair spilling over the pillow, and remembered what he had thought of earlier that day. "Why don't you ever leave your hair curly anymore?"

She looked at him in surprise. Why did the question surprise her so much?

"You won't like the answer," she said with a huff.

"Try me."

She sighed, fidgeting her hands on top of the covers. "It seems more appropriate for the office."

"And?"

"And it's like my mask, okay Oliver? It reminds me that I can't be myself, not really. That I have to play in this secret identity—your secretary. It reminds me I can't tell people like Isabel Rochev what I think of them, no matter how much I want to."

Oliver closed his eyes. She had been right, he didn't like the answer. He hated that she had to change herself because of him.

"It also reminds me of everything that has changed," she said softly.

He almost groaned. There was _more_ to something as simple as her changing her hair. "Changed how?"

"The Undertaking . . . all those lives that were lost because we couldn't disarm that second bomb."

"Not your fault," he said quickly.

"It wasn't yours either."

He could have argued with her, but he didn't have it in him.

As he watched, her hands twisted in the comforter of his bed.

"Tell me about your parents," he said softly. "You never talk about them."

She blinked, looking at the ceiling. "That's because they've been dead for fourteen years, Oliver."

That made him sit up, shocked. "That would have made you . . . " The math shocked him, and made him incredibly sad for her.

"Eleven. I grew up in the foster care system after that."

How had he never asked her about this before? He wanted to ask her more, but decided to afford her that same courtesy she had always given him—the ability to wait until she was ready. "If you ever want to talk about it. . . " He said softly.

She nodded, and was quiet for awhile. He thought maybe she had fallen asleep, when he heard her say his name softly. "Oliver?"

He had laid back down on the couch. He looked toward her, and she was still twisting the blankets in her hands. He wanted . . . hell, he didn't even know what he wanted. His emotions were all over the place where Felicity was concerned, riddled with want and need, the desire to keep her safe and the desire to keep her close. Things that contrasted each other in painful ways.

"Does it get any easier?"

He sat up again at that, knowing that she was talking about the man she had killed to escape.

"I hope you don't ever have to find that out."

"He was a criminal," she whispered. "I saw his file, and he did plenty of bad things."

"But it doesn't make it any better," he said gently.

"No."

"You did what you had to in order to survive. You have to remember that." He said it with far more intensity than he meant to and she sat up, leaning toward him.

"Do _you_ remember that?"

"That's different, Felicity." How did this conversation end up being turned around so quickly?"

"How so?"

"I've killed so many people," it came out as a whisper.

"To save yourself. Or others."

"Do you know that of everyone in my life who knows who I really am, you are the _only_ one who has never called me a murderer to my face? "

She started to speak, then stopped, her hand coming up to her throat. "Even Digg?"

He nodded. "Diggle. Laurel and her dad, even though they don't know my true identity. Tommy." His voice broke on the last one.

She shook her head. "They are _wrong_."

"If you are so willing to give me a break, maybe you can do it for yourself too."

To his surprise, she nodded. "Okay, yeah. I will, if you will."

"Okay then." He agreed.

She nodded, all seriousness, and laid back in bed again. She took her glasses off and placed them on the nightstand. Her hands were back to fidgeting in the blankets. "Oliver?

"Yeah?"

She started to speak, and then stopped. "Good night."

He thought maybe she was going to say something else entirely. "'Night, Felicity."

He listened as her breathing evened out, trying not to think about the implications of any of this. Because the more she was with him, the more he wanted to keep it that way, for as long as she would have him.

Xxx

Felicity woke up with a start from a dream she couldn't remember, but that had her gasping for air. It must have been early morning, because the first rays of sunlight were just beginning to stream through the huge east facing windows. She looked to the couch and saw Oliver still sprawled, sleeping soundly, for the second morning in a row. And, just like yesterday, he looked entirely too damn delicious. She was pretty sure that if she was forced to stay this close to him around the clock, she was going to implode. Especially with the added layer of his new desire to be open with her about things he had hardly ever spoken about before . . . to her or, she suspected anyone. She wasn't at all sure what to make of that.

She grabbed her bag and hit the shower. There was a lot to be done today, if they were going to bring Roy into the fold. She hissed as the warm water hit the still healing cut on her temple, a reminder of what had happened just two days before. She thought about what Oliver had said the night before, about needing to forgive herself. She understood the guilt that he carried around with him every day a little better.

Oliver was gone when she woke up, so she headed downstairs. She found him already dressed, talking quietly with Diggle. They headed to the office and slid in to their usual routine. There was still a lot to deal with because of Isabel's departure. Stellmore was sending other another executive, but there were rumors that Isabel had been the one to push the Stellmore's acquisition of Queen Consolidated. There was the potential that they would be willing to sell their shares. Moira came into the office shortly after they had arrived, and she and Oliver were closeted in his office making phone calls to see if they could secure the funds to buy Stellmore out.

Felicity worked on an acquisition of her own. She created a shell corporation and quietly bought an empty warehouse a few blocks away from the Foundry. It was the perfect location for Oliver to train Roy, with multiple entry points and two levels for them to use for training. She ordered equipment and set for it to be delivered the following day, then blocked off two hours on Oliver's lunch schedule for the next few weeks. With Roy's job at Verdant and their night-time commitment, she figured that would be the only time that would work for either of them. All of this assumed that Roy would agree to work with the Arrow after he had shot him in the knee. She _still _couldn't believe Oliver had done that.

Lunch came and the Queens were still huddled together taking turns on the phone. She pulled out the pile of takeout menus and ordered them lunch, ordering a few different things for Mrs. Queen since she had no idea what she liked. Once that was done, she checked on her searches for Isabel and Merlyn. The building she had been held at was owned by a shell corporation she couldn't trace, but the company owned three other properties in the Glades. She doubted Merlyn would stay at any of those, he would know that they would check the property records. She searched for corporations set up around the same time that had the same characteristics, and came up with three that had holdings in Starling City. She fist pumped—that was not a coincidence. They were getting closer, she could feel it.

Next she moved on to the Man in the Skull Mask. Seriously, that name . . . she sighed. She checked up on Daily's tracker, and continued researching Sebastian Blood. There wasn't much to find there—she knew that Oliver would have to pay Blood a visit sooner or later. The whole thing with Merlyn had derailed them from the whole _Mirakuru_ thing, but she knew that it was still bothering Oliver. She pulled together what she could and sent it to the computers at the Foundry.

Lunch arrived, and she took it in to Oliver and his mother. He looked up at her as she came in, and then glanced at his watch. "I didn't realize how late it was, thanks."

"Gotta feed the beast," she joked. She turned to Mrs. Queen. "I ordered you a couple of different things, I'm not sure what you wanted."

"Thank you, Felicity," Mrs. Queen said. That made Felicity pause. She had always been "Ms. Smoak" to Mrs. Queen. She hoped that the lack of formality meant that she was welcoming Felicity in . . . although into what, Felicity had no idea. Oliver's life? Because she wasn't really _in _his life. Not in the ways that mattered. She was his friend, and his partner in their night life, but not a part of his life. She smiled at Mrs. Queen and headed back to her desk, trying not to think about Oliver. The circles her brain was making could not possibly be good for her mental health. She'd been doing way too much of that lately.

It was well after six when Oliver finally came out of his office, hugging his mother as she headed out. "I won't be back until late," he told her. "I have a ton of paperwork to catch up on, and will stop by the club to do some things there too." She kissed him on the cheek.

"Goodnight, Felicity," she said as she passed.

"Goodnight, Mrs. Queen," Felicity waved.

As soon as she was out the door, Oliver tapped her desk. "So where we are on everything else?"

"Well, you are now the proud new owner of a warehouse. Well, not you. A dummy corporation, of course. But you know what I mean. Equipment will be there tomorrow morning, and I've blocked off your lunches for the next few weeks."

He nodded his head at her. "Sounds good."

"You should probably, you know, talk to Roy tonight though."

"I was planning on that, Felicity," he said, his lips quirking at her.

"Here's the paperwork you do actually need to sign," she said, handing him a small stack of papers. "But it shouldn't take too long. Then we can head to the Foundry."

That night, the Arrow approached Roy in the alleys of Verdant. After a heated discussion, he agreed to train with the Arrow. They would begin tomorrow. Oliver would go early and set up the equipment Felicity had ordered before Roy arrived.

The next ten days flew by. Oliver trained Roy at lunch. Although he was still having trouble controlling his rage, and was continuously challenging the Arrow, things were slowly moving forward. Evenings were spent staking out the properties Felicity had identified that could potentially be Merlyn's. Oliver staked out Blood for several nights, and decided that the time was coming for the Arrow to confront him. At Queen Consolidated, Oliver and Moira were able to secure enough investors to buy back Stellmore's shares, although they had not yet announced that they were willing to sell.

Every night, she ended up at the Queen mansion, sleeping in Oliver's bed while he slept on the couch. Being continuously in his presence had her raw and on edge—it was no secret that he was incredibly attractive. But he also continued to be uncharacteristically open with her. Every day that passed made it more difficult for her to keep a respectable distance between them. She had, at least three more times since the night she had dinner with the Queens for the first, almost asked Oliver why he kissed her that night on New Year's. It felt like it had been months ago, but it had only been weeks. But she always managed to stop herself, because she was pretty sure that once she went there, there would be no going back. She wasn't ready for the consequences of that yet. She reminded herself that nothing had changed—Oliver was still unattainable. She was not the kind of woman Oliver Queen—even _this _version of Oliver—became involved with. And there was always Laurel Lance. Even though they hadn't seen much of her lately, she knew that for Oliver, it would always be Laurel. She would do well to remember that.

It was nearly the end of January when Oliver decided it was time to confront Blood. He planned to do it in his home—he would face the man and demand to know his involvement with the man in the skull mask. There were so many holes in Sebastian Blood's life, the team agreed there was something highly suspicious about him.

It was snowing that night, something unusual for Starling City. Diggle followed Blood home from the office and let Oliver know when he returned to his house. It was late, nearly eleven, but not late by the Arrow's standards. Oliver moved in to confront Blood, Diggle staying down the block to back him up if needed. Felicity sat in the lair, ready to assist if they needed it.

She listened as Oliver demanded to know if Blood was involved. Blood denied everything. "Tell me what you know about the _Mirakuru!_" The Arrow denied.

And it was then that Blood made an infinitesimal slip. "I know nothing about it," Blood said. Not "What is that?" Or "The _what?" _He knew exactly what they were talking about.

"Oliver," Felicity said softly, calling his attention to the slip in case he missed it.

She heard a woosh as Oliver shot an arrow toward the man. "I'm on to you now. Grundy said the man in the skull mask was his brother. Is that you? Brother Blood? It's almost laughable, that name."

Felicity heard the change in Blood's voice over the comms. "I want to save this city, the same as you."

"You have no idea what you are dealing with."

Blood laughed. "But I do. It's you who has no idea."

Oliver shot another warning shot at him. "Where did you get the _Mirakuru!_"

Felicity's monitor blipped. _Shit_. "Oliver, SCPD has just been dispatched. You have less than a minute."

She heard him growl. "This isn't over, Blood. I'll be watching you."

She watched as his tracker moved away from Blood's residence. As he left, she activated the high powered listening device Oliver had stuck under Blood's entry table. Minutes after Oliver left, Blood received a call. Felicity could only catch Blood's side of the conversation—a string of "yes sir" and "of course" style responses.

Oliver was nearly back to the Foundry when Diggle called in. "Oliver, Blood's on the move."

"He got a call," Felicity said. "Maybe whoever is charge is calling him in."

"Got it," Oliver said. "Digg, give me your location. When I get there you head back." Felicity sighed. Oliver had agreed that she was safe at the Foundry and hadn't insisted either he or Diggle be with her while she was there, but he had been incredibly growly about the decision. _Overbearing, overprotective . . . _She sighed. It was what it was.

Digg appeared back at the Foundry ten minutes later.

"He's entering a building," Oliver said over the comms. "1527 Alan Street."

"On it," Felicity said. "Skyscraper, owned by . . . Polyphemus Industried. Huh, what a weird name."

"Polyphemus was a Cyclops in the Odyssey," Oliver said slowly, and Felicity heard an edge in his voice.

"Wait, you haven't read anything by Shakespeare, but you know Homer?" She teased, trying to lighten his mood.

"Felicity," Oliver hissed. "Is Digg back?" Okay, he sounded

"Yeah, he's here Oliver." She was worried now.

"Good. Tell him to stay there."

"What's wrong?"

"I have a very, very bad feeling about this. Is there any way you can tell me where they are going so that I can try and get a good vantage point?"

She typed for a moment. "Looks like the executive offices are on the top floor, southwest side."

"On it."

Felicity exhaled, looking at Digg. He looked worried too. Oliver's gut was rarely wrong. "Be careful," she whispered.


	11. Ghosts of The Past

_AN: Oye, how about that ep last night peeps? Fan girling on so many levels. I'm on Tumblr now, so if you use it look me up (chaos-is-welcome) and also on Twitter (chaos_iswelcome) because I really. can't. stop. talking. about. this. show. Anyway, thanks for the reviews/follows/favorites. I'm starting to love this story (I REALLY didn't when I started writing it, it was just driving me nuts). . . This fic is M for a reason, some adult content at the end of this chapter. Enjoy. _

Chapter 11 – Ghosts of The Past

Oliver took the long-range scope from under the seat of his bike, something he found came in handy for reconnaissance from a distance. The building on the Southeast side was slightly taller than the building Blood had entered; he would have a good view from the roof of the office Felicity had indicated. He pulled an arrow and was soon scaling the side of the building. Once on the roof, he used the scope. He immediately found the office—dimly lit and apparently vacant. He watched as Blood and his driver stepped off the elevator, then shot an arrow that had been rigged with a listening device into the building.

"Are you receiving the transmission?" He asked.

"Yeah, I can hear footsteps but that's it," Felicity confirmed.

Through the scope, Oliver watched as a darkly clad figure stepped out of the shadows toward Blood. His mask, though had the hairs on the back of Oliver's neck standing up. It was half black, half orange, and it reminded him of a mask from his past. White and black, as a man cut his chest to torture him. A second mask, in the chest of his friend, Slade Wilson. That same mask, on Slade's face as he rushed at Oliver in a rage, a rage inspired by the _Mirakuru_. Oliver shook his head. _Impossible_.

But then the figure spoke, and the second Oliver heard his voice, he was fully transported to the island. He could see Slade's face as he found Shado, dead on the ground. He could see Slade fighting Ivo's men with impossible speed and strength. He could see that strength and speed as he fought to end Slade, who had become a shadow of the man he once was. It may have been impossible, but this was happening. Slade Wilson was alive, and in Starling City. He had provided Sebastian Blood with the _Mirakuru_.

He was finally focusing on Slade now. Whatever he had said to Blood before, he had missed, but Felicity was recording so if it was important he could worry about it later. Now, Slade was drawing a blade from his back. Thinner, longer than the blades he had used on the island, but a blade all the same. "I warned you before, another man can wear the skull mask. You have been sloppy, once again, and this time the sacrifice shall be yours." There was a flurry of movement, too quick for Oliver to track, as both Blood and his driver fell.

The figure removed the mask then, and Oliver saw Slade Wilson for the first time since he had killed him. He wore an eye patch over the eye that Oliver had shot him through during the final last battle. But otherwise, he looked the same, if not a bit older. He walked toward the window, and with a chill Oliver got the distinct impression that he _knew_. Slade knew he was watching. He spoke again and Oliver's blood ran cold. How had this happened? Was there not a single ghost from his past that would stay _in the past_? Would every mistake he had made in his life forever come back to haunt him? He grabbed the line he had used to scale the building and repelled down. He was on his bike and heading home. And the Foundry _was _home, where things were real and he knew understood how things worked. Where there were no secrets, only things he was not ready to share. Where things made sense. Because right now, nothing made sense.

Felicity looked up as the door opened and Oliver moved down the stairs. Relief flooded through him the moment the door shut behind him and he descended the stairs to the home Felicity had built for them during his self-imposed exile this past summer. Clean lines and surgical cleanliness, arrows and computers, and no need for any kind of mask—the one place they could all be themselves. Felicity's eyes were on him, and he could immediately see them tighten as she realized something was wrong. Diggle must have sensed it to, because he had been casually leaning against a table, but now he was standing at the ready, muscles bunched for whatever was coming.

"Oliver?" Felicity said, worry in her voice. She came forward and gently touched his wrist. A simple gesture, but it grounded him in the present—something he desperately needed.

"He knows who I am," he said, and his voice sounded gravely even to his own ears.

Felicity searched his face. "You know who was in that room," she said. She didn't pose it as a question—she knew the answer. She was giving him time, prompting him without actually asking anything.

His lips made a thin line as he nodded once.

"I couldn't make much sense of the last things he said," she said, going to her computer and playing the last part of the recording. "Digg and I were just going over it. But he didn't say your name, Oliver."

Oliver closed his eyes as she hit play. He didn't need to hear it again. Those words were already etched in his mind, playing on repeat. They made sense to him. "_I know you are out there kid. And now you know. You know that every pain, every loss, is coming back to you with five year's interest. All I lost, you will now lose, and more."_ But he listened to them again anyway. His mind began listing all of the things—all of the _people_—he could lose. Laurel, Sara, Thea, his mother. _Diggle._ It was getting harder to breathe. _Felicity_. He scrubbed his hands over his face.

"He didn't have to say my name," he said. Felicity wrapped her arms around herself as she looked at him, and he wondered if he sounded as _off_ as he felt. "I know that voice. He showed his face, but I didn't need to see it. He used to be a friend. His name is Slade Wilson."

Felicity reached for the keyboard again, and within seconds had a picture pulled up. "Slade Wilson, Australian Special Intelligence Services. Missing in Action, Presumed Dead."

Digg stepped forward his brow furrowing as he examined the photograph. Oliver supposed he was remembering the name from last month, when he had mentioned it. "He was on the island with you, right?" Diggle said.

Felicity looked to Diggle, surprise in her eyes, then back to Oliver. He nodded. "He was injected with the _Mirakuru_. I thought . . ." He exhaled. It was such a long, complicated story and he had no idea where to begin.

"You said you killed the super soldier on the island, and destroyed the serum," Digg said.

Oliver scrubbed his hands over his face. "Apparently, I was wrong."

"Oliver, come on man." There was something in his tone that set Oliver on edge and had him grinding his teeth. His words from a previous conversation came to Oliver's memory. _You mean not ever, don't you Oliver? _Diggle didn't always agree with his silence regarding the things that happened on the island.

"What, Digg? What do you want me to say? The man was my friend and it warped him so much, changed him, and in the end I had to kill him. Except apparently he needs to be added to the list of people I didn't _actually _kill." Sara, Slade, Merlyn. How many people would come back from the dead? Immediately he thought of Tommy. He wished he could bring Tommy back. He looked down at his hands.

Felicity put her hand on Oliver's shoulder and sent Digg a loaded look. The older man inclined his head at her, jaw working. "Yeah, okay. I'm going home. I'll see you in the morning."

A bit of panic flooded him at the thought of Diggle stepping outside of their safe space without really understanding what was going on. But he couldn't seem to get things sorted out enough in his head to explain any of it. "Digg," Oliver said, standing as his friend made his way up the stairs. Digg stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Watch your back."

"Always do," Diggle said with a wave.

Felicity sighed, and turned back to her computers and began typing. "Okay, so . . . Odyssey references? Anything else I should search for?"

Oliver shrugged and scrubbed his hands over his face again. Felicity worked at the computer, leaving him to his thoughts without actually leaving him _alone_. That was one of his favorite things about this woman. She understood that while he didn't always want to talk about things, he didn't always want to be alone either. The only sound was her fingers moving over the keyboard as she set up her searches. Finally she turned to him, eyebrow raised. "You ready to go?" He shrugged. She got up, getting both their jackets, and handing him his when he didn't move. "I'll drive." She squeezed his shoulder, and left him no choice to follow her up the stairs.

They climbed into the Mercedes. It was strange to see her behind the wheel. A cold, heavy rain that had been threatening all day began to fall as she pulled on to the street. He leaned back and just watched her as she drove. She reached over and turned the radio on. She bopped her head to the music, singing occasionally, as the light from the street lamps slid over her. Time seemed to slow down as he took her in—light and joy on a dark, cold night. He found the pleasure she took in the joy of the music, despite everything that they had been through lately . . . everything _she _had been through lately, downright humbling. She was . . . he couldn't even find the right thoughts to fit her in that moment. She was silent when he couldn't handle the questions. She was fierce when she thought she was right. She was his partner and his friend, and so much more. He didn't even know how he ever managed to do this without her. In that car, he felt as if he were in a bubble; the world and all the crazy shit that was happening seemed to fall away. There was just her.

They were home all too soon. The house was quiet—Thea was probably back at the club. He had reluctantly agreed to let her go back to her daily routine, but she had double protection with her at all times. His mother was probably already in her room. He followed Felicity up to his room, as had been their routine for the past few weeks. It felt so right, having her here; sharing space with her. He wasn't sure what he would do when the threat was gone, and she went back to her own space. Even the thought made him feel bereft. She went to the bathroom and changed, coming out in a panda sleep shirt and capris. He sat on one side of the couch and rested his elbows on his knees. She sat down opposite him, feet curled under her.

"I'm not saying you have to talk to me, Oliver, but you can," she said softly.

The walls were down, and there was no more filter. He said what he was thinking. "I'm terrified you won't see me the same way anymore. The things that happened . . ."

She scooted closer and she hesitantly reached toward him. He met her half way, reaching for her hand like it was a lifeline, pulling it into his lap as his head fell back. He closed his eyes,letting his head fall back against the couch, and then looked at the ceiling as he was carried back. He began to tell her all of it. How Slade was the second friend he made on the island. How he taught him to fight. How Shado came to join them, and how she taught him to use the bow. How they had kissed, and it had felt like to a betrayal to Laurel. But that eventually it hadn't mattered, and they had become involved anyway. He told her how Yao Fei had died, how he had killed Fyres with an arrow to save her. He told her about finding the bones in the cave, and of the moment the bombs started to drop and he thought Shado might be lost.

He felt like he had been talking for hours before he even made it to Ivo and the freighter, finding out Sara was alive, and the _mirakuru. _Sara's betrayl, his escape, finding the submarine and injecting Slade. Watching the blood pour from his eyes. Thinking he was dead. Then came the part he was dreading the most. The catalyst for Slade's rage. His own failure to save Shado. Would this change how she saw him? "Ivo caught up to us, and he took us off the boat. It was dark and cold, and he made both Sara and Shado get on the ground in front of him, and he pointed a gun at them. He told me it was my choice who died." He heard Felicity's breath catch, but he couldn't look at her. He was so afraid what he would see in her eyes if he looked at her. "He was pointing the gun at Sara, and I couldn't let her die. She was only there because of me, and I couldn't let her die. So I put myself between them, even though I knew the cost would be Shado's life." She squeezed his hand, but he still couldn't look at her.

"Slade came then, and he killed so many of them so quickly, but Ivo was gone. He was already so strong. He was destroyed when he found out she was dead. He loved her . . ." his voice caught. "He loved her like she deserved. Like I _couldn't_. We buried her, but I didn't tell him it was my fault. I should have. He found out eventually, but it was from Ivo just before he killed him, and he _snapped_. Before then, he'd been trying to hold on, but that was the moment that turned it. I thought Sara was dead . . ." That was another story he simply couldn't tell, not yet. "And eventually it was Slade and I. He was my friend, and I drove an arrow through his eye. I thought he was dead; he was dead when I left him. I burned the mirakuru. I thought it was over and done, but it's not. It's only just begun."

He exhaled and finally looked at her, ready to see judgement or anger or pity in her eyes. But when he looked, he saw tears gleaming behind her glasses. And behind those tears he saw the same things in her eyes he _always_ saw when she looked at him—she was looking at him like she believed in him, like she thought he could fix what was wrong with this city. Like she thought he was a hero. He felt his breath catch, and shook his head in disbelief. "How can you know the truth, and still look at me like that?" His voice was so gravelly, he can hardly recognize it.

The hand he wasn't holding came up to his face, ghosting over his cheek. He leaned into her without meaning to, turning his entire body toward her. It was like gravity. "Oliver," she said, her voice cracking. "You judge yourself enough, have punished yourself enough. You don't need me to do it."

He started to speak, and then stopped, because he couldn't even formulate a coherent thought. She humbled him, with her belief in him.

"You did what you had to in order to survive. No one should judge you for that. Most people would have given up a hundred times if they had to go through what you went through."

His hand loose hand came up, catching the one that cupped his cheek. He turned her hand and pressed a kiss into her palm. Her breath caught. "So, I've been meaning to ask . . . "

He looked up at her, wondering what question she could possibly have after all of that terrible tale.

"Why did you kiss me on New Year's?"

He laughed, surprised by the sound. "Now? You are going to ask me that _now_?"

She nodded and scooted a little closer, and he realized there might be a reason she was asking. That maybe she was fighting as much as he was to keep the distance between them . . . and that she was failing at it as much as he was too.

He let go of the hand in his lap and reached to cup her neck. Her eyes closed at the contact and the hand that had fallen to his thigh squeezed into the muscle. "Oliver . . ." she sighed out.

"I kissed you because I missed you, and things are so much easier to deal with when you are here. I kissed you because I _want_ you, so much more than I should."

Her gaze dropped to his lips, sending a shot of lust through him. _Holy shit_, was this actually going to happen? Was he okay with this happening. He had to let her know how important she was. "I break people, Felicity. I hurt them until they are unrecognizable."

She started to shake her head at him. "I want you but I need you in my life more, any part of you. I can't _not _have you in my life. Which is why it was so stupid for me to kiss you then. I ruin things, Felicity, and I can't afford to ruin this."

He was absolutely shocked as she rolled, bringing her left thigh over his legs and straddling him. Her hand were on his face, and he found her waist with his. "I'm yours, Oliver. Every part of me is yours."

And _God, _he was finally kissing her. Everything melted away—the pain and the worry and the fear—and there was just Felicity. Brave, beautiful, fierce Felicity, so unlike any woman he'd ever known. She was kissing him back, and he felt like even if he climbed inside her, he wouldn't be close enough. His hands banded around her waist, pulling her both down and into him. It was just like that first kiss, explosions of light behind his eyes. She pulled back breathing hard, and he waited for her to say something, or stop them. But her hands slid down his chest, found the edge of his shirt, and lifted it. He leaned forward into her, raising his hands. She threw it somewhere, he didn't know or care where, and then she was touching his bare chest. His hips surged up as he pressed her down again, claiming her mouth with his.

He held her tight and stood, walking toward the bed. He almost asked her if she was sure, but then he looked into her eyes. Clear blue pools that held his, steady and true. There was no doubt or questions there. Only trust and need and . . . he kissed her again. He laid her on the bed, showing her with his hands and his mouth what he could not tell her with words. He slowly took her clothes off, taking his time with her, until the need was nearly overwhelming. Then finally, _finally, _he was over her, sliding himself home as she moaned his name. Nothing had ever felt so pure or clean. There was no broken history or hurt parties. There was no need for forgiveness. There were no ghosts. Just absolute certainty that this was right. This was home. Oliver let himself go, losing himself in her.


	12. There Are No Words

_AN: Sorry it took so long for this update. I hate having a WIP that doesn't fall in with the current storyline—this story was supposed to be finished during THE FIRST HIATUS, and obviously it didn't happen that way. I want to point out that it was born from the spoiler from Stephen Amell that we would see a sex scene that was something different for Oliver . . . and I guessed office sex. I sort of wish it had been office sex! Anyway, I am REALLY hoping to finish this before next Wednesday, to keep us entertained because these last few days are going to be THE WORST. This chapter was hard to get done because it was a transition, but there should only be about 4 more left, if that, and they should all be pretty much non-stop action. Enjoy!_

Chapter 12—There Are No Words

She woke slowly, first becoming aware of the sound of the falling rain. She felt hard, smooth planes beneath her hands and realized she was draped across Oliver's chest, one leg over his as he lay on his back. She felt one hand drawing circle on the base of her spine. His other hand was playing with the strands of her hair that had fallen across his chest. She sighed contentedly, and he stilled. The hand that had been at her back came up and stroked her cheek gently. "Good morning," he said as she met his. She squinted, wishing she could see him better. She was sure Oliver in his bed in the morning would be even more delicious than Oliver sleeping on his couch had been. She felt him shift, and then he was smoothly placing her glasses on her face. It occurred to her that if _she _tried to do that one handed, she'd poke her eye out. She could see him again, and yes, he was even more delicious. He looked relaxed and still a little sleepy as he watched her with those intense blue eyes.

"Hi," she said. He gave her a smile, and then he was rolling her under him, kissing her. Her phone buzzed. Shit. It was probably Diggle. She didn't know what time it was, but she suspected it was long past the usual time they were up and ready to face the day. "Shouldn't we . . . " she started, but he stopped her with his mouth, and proceeded to redefine forever her definition of a _good morning._

xxx

Diggle was a little worried that he hadn't heard from either of them. It was almost nine, they hadn't responded to his texts, and they hadn't been downstairs when he arrived. He took the stairs two at a time, and was raising his hand to knock when he heard a gruff laugh come from behind the door. He stopped and listened. Another laugh and then silence. And then a soft, feminine sound that was definitely not a laugh. Digg's eyes went wide. _They didn't_. But he was pretty sure they had. Holy shit, he hadn't seen that coming, not yet. Especially not after last night—he was thinking a nuclear meltdown was coming, not this. He thought it was going to take them years to figure it out. It made sense to him—she helped balance Oliver out. But he wasn't entirely sure Oliver was ready to be serious. He was still so wrapped up with Laurel. Diggle wasn't at all certain where Oliver's head was where Laurel was concerned. He knew that the younger man cared deeply for Felicity, but he wasn't sure he trusted him enough not to hurt her. At this point though, his opinions were moot. He could only hope that it would be good for them. Digg went to sit in the antique Louis XVIII chair just down the hallway. As an extra precaution, he pulled out the headphones A.J. had given him and listened to some music. There were things he just _didn't_ need to hear.

xxx

The rain was still falling heavily when they finally managed to get themselves out of bed, and then out of a shower where they may have become distracted again. Repeatedly. When Felicity got around to checking her phone, she had multiple texts from Diggle. No surprise, and she had no idea how she was going to explain this to him. Scrolling through her email, she saw a request from Stellmore's top guns to meet with Oliver as soon as possible. She quickly responded and set up the meeting. She was distracted as she stepped out of Olivers room, and was surprised to see Diggle sitting in an ornate chair down the hallway, headphones in his ears and a crossword puzzle in his hands. _Oh crap_. She _knew_ she should have let him know they were running late.

Diggle looked up and saw them. "Finally," he said. Oliver chuckled, and she wondered which thing Digg was referring too. "So, what sort of fun is on our schedule today."

"Stellmore executives are coming in at eleven," she said, turning to Oliver. "It looks like they are willing to sell their shares."

Oliver nodded. "That's good," he said. "I'll let my mother know, she'll want to be there too."

Felicity cringed inwardly. His mother. John. Perhaps they should have covered these subjects _instead_ of having such a "good morning." Oliver squeezed her waist and then headed down the hall in the direction of his mother's room, leaving her alone with Diggle. John cocked an eyebrow at her. She wiggled a finger at him. "Not one word!" She said.

Digg laughed, a sharp bark of laughter that filled the hallway. "Come on," he said, shaking his head. "Let's go down to the car."

As they walked, Felicity realized yet another thing she and Oliver hadn't really discussed—how much of what he had shared with her was to be shared with Diggle. She doubted he would want to recount it again. Would he consider it a betrayal of his trust in her if she told Digg what he had said? She decided the answer was no—it was important Diggle knew where things stood. Once they were safely ensconced in the car, she filled him in.

Diggle sighed. "So not just a super soldier, but a _revenge driven_ super soldier. Fantastic."

"We do always have the best problems," Felicity said morosely.

"Are you sure you know what you are getting yourself into here Felicity?" Diggle was turned, looking at her over the seat with a worried look in his eyes.

"Don't worry about me," she said. Digg just raised his eyebrow again. Oliver came in then, saving her from saying anything else. Because really, it didn't matter. He had needed comfort, and she was tired of fighting whatever it was between them. She had been serious when she said she couldn't go back after she let this happen, but she hardly expected him to feel the same. He said he needed her, and she was glad, but she didn't expect him to _love_ her. She was still the same person he had always been, and so was she. Nothing had changed. She wasn't a naive school girl—she had no illusions of forever with Oliver Queen. She simply wasn't his type. She would take what she could for as long as it was offered, and she would give him the comfort he needed to fulfill their mission along the way. It would probably ruin her for anything else to come after, but she had long since decided it was better to do that than what-if herself to death. She just had to careful that she would be able to hold herself together when it ended.

"What about Roy?" Diggle asked, pulling her out of her thoughts. Oliver raised an eyebrow, and Digg expanded on the thought. "Roy has the mirakuru in his veins . . . if it comes down to a fight."

Oliver tilted his head, considering. He looked at Felicity, and she knew that he was piecing together that she had filled Digg in. "Roy is still untrained. He would be no match for Slade. Slade had incredible strength and discipline before he was even injected." He paused, looking out the window. "But you're right, we may need all the help we can get."

"Since this meeting with Stellmore is so close to lunch," she said, "why don't you move your training to the evening. That way you get more time with him."

Oliver nodded. "It would be helpful to have him ready sooner. If he'll ever be ready."

"Hopefully we won't need him to be." He looked at her as she said it, and she could see that she didn't think that would be the case.

xxx

The day flew by in a flurry of activity once they arrived at Queen Consolidated. The Stellmore meeting went between than they could have expected. Felicity could tell by watching Oliver's face through the glass partition, as he shook hands with the Stellmore representatives, that things had _finally_ gone their way. There were still many unanswered questions for Oliver, but at least the fate of his family's company was no longer one of them. Oliver and Moira walked the Stellmore execs out of the office and toward the elevator banks, saying their goodbyes.

"Congratulations, Queens!" She said to them with a smile as the doors slid shut. "How does it feel to have that over and done with?"

Moira beamed. "An amazing relief, to be sure." She placed her hand on Oliver's arm. "Lunch to celebrate, Oliver?"

Felicity was glad they had already contacted Roy and rescheduled his training for that night. Oliver nodded, and turned his gaze to her. There was a lightness in his eyes, a sharp contrast to the weight he usually carried there, that took her breath away. "Join us?" He asked her.

She shook her head, not wanting to intrude on what should be a family celebration. "I've got far too much work here, but thank you." There was truth in that—in addition to the huge pile of paperwork she had for QC business, she also needed to follow up on the searches she had set up the night before. She usually checked these things first thing in the morning, but today Oliver had kept her otherwise engaged. She leaned toward him conspiratorially. "The boss gets angry when I don't get things done in a timely fashion."

Oliver placed his hand on her shoulder as his mother turned toward the elevators, and it felt like a caress. "Can I bring you anything?"

She shook her head. "Digg and I will order in if we need to," she said. "Enjoy the moment, Oliver," He lifted his thumb to her cheek, and she turned her head slightly so that she was touching his whole hand. Every nerve ending in her body was aware of him.

"I'll see you later," he said gently.

Felicity smiled up at him again. "Go, before she wonders what's keeping you!" After enjoying the view as he left, because now she knew _exactly _what was under those fine Italian pants, and how it felt under her hands, she set to work on her searches. They were slowly getting closer to Malcolm Meryln. The three properties she had flagged after she had been taken had been dead ends, but using the parameters of their purchase and ownership, was able to flag twelve other properties in the area that were potentials. She also found one residential property on the edge of town that had nothing in common with the other properties. She wondered if maybe this was where Isabel Rochev was hiding out.

If that morning flew by quickly, the weeks that followed went by even faster. Things seemed to be looking up. Roy's training was progressing—he was learning to control his rage and was slowly coming to trust the Arrow. Oliver split his nights between training Roy, surveilling the properties Felicity has flagged as being potentials for Merlyn, and watching Slade's highrise. She knew the last of those always left him stressed and on edge, because he didn't have a clue what Slade Wilson was up to.

A week after Stellmore sold their remaining interest in Queen Consolidated, they confirmed Isabel Rochev was hiding out in the residential property Felicity had flagged at the edge of town. They sent the information to Lance, and let SCPD bring her in. Oliver hadn't liked it, because they had lost her the first time. But she didn't want him dealing with her—he still looked a little too on edge whenever her name came up, and she knew he was thinking of how differently that night could have ended. He sent them all home early that night, and the minute they were to his room, he was on her. His touch was fierce and possessive and had an edge of desperation to it. "It's okay," she breathed as he unbuttoned her shirt and licked his way down to her chest.

She felt his hands fist at her back and he pulled her impossibly closer. He growled. "It almost wasn't." He raised his eyes to meet hers, and a part of her cursed herself from taking him off his course, because it had felt so good.

"But it is." His eyes bore in to hers, and he was kissing her again. It was a matter of minutes until he was sliding home into her, his eyes never leaving hers. He watched her as she flew apart around him, and then he followed her over the edge, saying her name like a prayer.

xxx

Everything fell apart four days after that. The end of February was approaching like a freight train. They had narrowed the list of Merlyn's properties down to four. He and Diggle both headed out, hoping that tonight would be the night they would finally find him. Felicity sat at her computers, updating the servers with the comm link in her ear as Digg and Oliver headed toward two separate addresses. She glanced up at the computer screens, and watched as Thea got out of her car in the Verdant parking lot, trailed by her two body guards. It was a Monday night, so the club was closed, and she usually stayed in on Mondays. Felicity's monitor beeped, and she turned back to what she was doing. When she glanced up at the monitors again, she saw Thea in the upstairs office, sitting at the desk sifting through some papers. Her two body guards were sitting at the bar downstairs, waiting for her. And then she watched in horror as two dark figures appeared suddenly behind them. "NO!" She cried out, watching as the twin figures pulled knives, and slit the throats of the two guards.

"Felicity?" Oliver's voice came through the comms, heavy with worry.

"Come back, now!" She cried. "There's someone here. Thea . . ." The comms crackled, and then went silent, which didn't make any sense. She quickly went to the computer. Whatever the problem was with the comms, it became clear very quickly that it wasn't something she could fix in a few quick keystrokes. "Damn it!" She yelled, and took a steadying breath. Armed men were heading toward Thea. She took a deep breath and reached under the desk, taking the hand gun Diggle had kept stored there since before she joined the team. She took her phone and dialed Thea.

"Hello?"

"Thea, it's Felicity. You need to hide."

"What?" Thea sounded surprised and confused.

"There are two men headed to you, you need to hide. NOW!"

She looked at the screen and saw Thea look around in confusion, then dive behind the desk. "Good girl, now just stay there. Oliver is coming."

"How . . . what . . ." Thea was confused, and rightfully so. There was no way she could understand how Felicity knew what she was doing. It also occurred to her that Oliver was currently wearing green, and she may have inadvertently given his identity up to his sister. The men were nearly up the stairs now. "They are almost there, Thea, just stay hidden. I need to call your brother."

"Okay." Thea said. And then Felicity had to hang up.

She dialed Oliver, and he breathed her name in relief as he answered.

"There's two, Oliver. She's in the office." Felicity had the gun and was heading up to the stairs as she spoke to him. She tried not to think about the last time she held the gun; about the man she had killed or the blood that had been on her hands.

"Felicity, stay there. I'm five minutes away."

"You know I can't," she said softly. "She could be dead in two."

"Felicity."

"I need to hang up now, Oliver. Hurry." And she hung up on him, before he could say anything else.

She took a steadying breath and keyed in the code to the door that would take her into Verdant. They hadn't used it much lately, but the boxes that blocked it were kept away from the door so that it would open. She had just opened it when the ground shook, and the world caught on fire.

xxx

Oliver was three blocks from Verdant when he felt the ground shake. He saw red glisten in the direction of the club, and his stomach dropped out of his body. He _knew_. He had to be cursed, because that was the only thing that explained why things like this kept happening to him all the fucking time. He gunned the bike. _Let them be alive, let them be alive_. He chanted it in his brain.

Then he rounded the corner and saw the wreckage. The warehouse portion of the foundry, the part that housed their base of operations under it, was in complete ruin. The roof had collapsed and fallen in. It was flattened, and as he got off his bike he had to put his hands on his knees to fight the wave of nausea that hit him. Because if she was still in the basement when that explosion hit, she was most likely dead.

_No_.

The portion of the building that housed Verdant was in better shape—smoke poured from the front door, but it was still standing. He tried not to think about what that meant. Diggle pulled up then, tires squealing. He had his gun drawn, and put a hand on Oliver's shoulder. "Let's find them."

"Felicity said Thea was upstairs," he shouted as they headed toward the building. Oliver knew there was no point in trying their "back" entrance to the lair—even from here, he could see that nothing remained of that portion of the building. His only hope was that he could get to her through the club entrance. Digg headed upstairs to look for Thea, and Oliver made his way toward the back of the club. The heat grew as he got closer to the entrance to the basement. As he passed the bar, he could hear the fire crackling in the hallway that housed the door he was looking for. The door he couldn't reach, because of the flames. He screamed her name then. Because she was gone. There was no way she couldn't be gone, because the place that they considered their safe haven was burning, and there was no way in.

The world was on fire, and his world was gone.


	13. Everything Falls

_AN: Thanks all for the great reviews, and thanks for sticking with this story! This is by far the longest FF I have ever written. _

Chapter 13 – Everything Falls

Oliver tried to focus his mind beyond the wooshing in his ears that had nothing at all to do with the fire burning in front of him.

_She was gone_.

He felt like he should be doubled over, the pain was so strong. But on the periphery, he heard her voice. _Oliver._ _Thea . . . _She had been trying to save Thea when last he spoke to her.

His sister. Someone had been coming after his sister. He took a breath and turned. _Thea_. He had to find his sister. As if his mind was just waking up to the situation, he remembered he had sent Digg upstairs to find Thea.

He turned and was moving past the bar, then cutting a left to the stairs when he saw Digg. And then he almost ended up on the ground, because his knees went weak with relief. Digg wasn't alone—Oliver could see him half dragging, half carrying Felicity down the stairs. She looked terrible, charred and covered in ash, but her eyes latched on to his as she saw him standing there, frozen, at the bottom of the stairs.

_She was alive. Alive. Alive. Alive._

Then Digg was there. "We have to move, Oliver!" Digg shouted, and Oliver looked back up the stairs. Where was Thea? The relief he had felt seconds before flooded away again, and he wondered if he would need to morn her instead. _No._ _Not his sister. Not Thea._ Even he didn't deserve that circle of hell. He was definitely too far inside his head, because Digg was already almost to the door, and he quickly moved to catch up with them. They were outside, and the cool fresh air seemed to clear his head.

Digg stopped by the car with Felicity, and Oliver was there in an instant. His hands found her face, and he wished he didn't have his gloves on. He also wished his hands weren't shaking, but he couldn't help it. Her hands fisted in the green leather at his chest.

"I'm so sorry, Oliver," she choked out. "I was too late, they took her."

Felicity was alive, but Thea was gone. His thumbs caressed her cheeks. Jesus, he had almost lost her. It was a huge miracle that he hadn't—especially given the fact that the place she _should_ have been was absolutely decimated.

Her hands left his chest and went to his wrists. "I need to get to my apartment," she said. "And you need to go home."

Nothing she was saying was making sense to him. He needed to find Thea, and he also needed to not let her out of his sight, because his hands were still shaking at the thought of how close he had come to losing her.

"We need to find Thea," Felicity echoed his thoughts. Maybe he had said them out loud, he wasn't even certain. "I can access the backup servers from the desktop at my apartment and try to get a plate off their car. And you need to go home." Why did she keep saying that? That was the last place he needed to go. "Your mother is going to hear about Verdant and she has to know that's where Thea went. She's going to freak."

He coasted his thumbs over her cheekbones, which were sooty and dirty, again. She had just been pulled from a burning building and she was already thinking proactively. Unlike him. He had never been rendered so utterly useless, not since that first year on the island, as he felt now.

"Oh, fuck," Digg said succinctly, and Oliver looked up to follow Digg's gaze. Oh, fuck, indeed, because that was Roy's ugly old red car barreling into the lot. He stepped back from Felicity and reached up to make sure the hood was in place. And fisted his hands, because he could still feel the tremor there. It became worse the moment he was no longer touching her, too.

Roy threw his door open, screaming Thea's name. Oliver stepped into his path, putting his hands out. "It's okay, Roy, she's not in there." But Roy looked like he had probably looked as he had rushed into that building minutes before—frantic and scared and desperate. Oliver knew that he was going to barrel directly through him, so he threw back the hood and pulled off the mask. The Arrow didn't care, or even know about Thea, but Roy would listen to Oliver Queen. Roy froze, his eyes widening. "She's not in there, Roy," he repeated.

"You?" Roy said in disbelief. Oliver nodded.

Felicity stepped next to Roy then, placing a gentle arm on his wrist. "Someone took her Roy, but we're going to find her. Why don't you come with Mr. Diggle and I, and we'll find her together."

Oliver watched as Roy looked at Felicity in utter confusion, then back at him. "Ms. Smoak will explain," he said, and even as the words were out of his mouth he regretted him. He wanted to send Felicity off with Roy, who was still a loose cannon, even less than he wanted to let Felicity out of his sight.

He could hear sirens now. They were nearly out of time. Felicity was now staring at the wreckage of the foundry, and there were tears in her eyes. Digg touched her shoulder. "We need to go."

She nodded, and then turned her eyes on Oliver. He was on her in a second, pulling her into his arms and crushing her against him as he kissed her. She cried out, and he froze, quickly letting go of her. "You're hurt," he said, and it sounded like an accusation, even to his ears.

"It's nothing," she said. "You have to go to your mother." He started to shake his head. "You have to Oliver. I'm okay. I'll be okay."

He gently put his hands on her shoulders and let his forehead fall forward until it touched hers. "Felicity . . . "

"She'll be terrified. She needs you there."

"Oliver!" Diggle called, and he knew his time was up. He stepped back from her, and John was immediately pushing her into the back seat of the car next to Roy. He met Oliver's eyes. "I'll keep her safe." He tossed him a bag containing a change of clothes. And then they were gone.

xxx

Felicity hissed in pain as she slid into the leather seat. Roy looked at her in concern. "Are you okay?"

She shrugged. "It could have been worse." A _lot_ worse. If she hadn't gone up the stairs to try and help Thea, she would most certainly be dead. Judging by the haunted look she had seen in Oliver's eyes, she suspected he had thought she was. Some burns on her back seemed a small price to pay for the ability to live another day. She just wished she had gotten to Thea in time. If she'd reacted faster . . .

She watched out the window as they rounded a corner and the blaze of the foundry became obscured by buildings. The place she had thought of as their safe haven was gone—blown to smithereens.

_Oh._ She inhaled sharply as something occurred to her. The _lair_ had been blown to smithereens. When the blast had happened, after she had made it into the hallway and towards the bar, the blast had come _up _the stairs. She was suddenly breathing too fast.

The lair had been compromised. And if the lair had been compromised, there was a strong possibility that other aspects of their life had been breached. She leaned forward and put a hand on Digg's shoulder. "Does Lyla have any traps?" She said softly. Digg glanced to meet her eyes in the rearview, and she saw confusion there. "The kind for unwanted pests?" His eyes widened, and she realized he understood. He took the next left, taking them in the opposite direction of her apartment.

xxx

Oliver ditched the bike outside the perimeter of the mansion and scaled the fence. The property was supposed to be impenetrable, but Digg had intentionally set up a blind spot, complete with a concealed area for his bike. He carried his leathers with him in his bag. It was a risk, but he couldn't afford to leave them behind. He had no idea what they were dealing with, or who, and he might need them at a moments noticed. He wondered, not for the first time, if this attack was from Slade, Merlyn, or another foe entirely. He was running across the estate lawn, and all too soon he was at the front door. There was already a police cruiser in the driveway. He cursed, took a steadying breath, and pushed through the door.

"Oliver, thank God!" His mother cried when she saw him. She stepped quickly into his arms. "The club . . . "

"I . . . I heard on the way here," he lied smoothly. Or at least he hoped it was smoothly.

Lance and another uniformed officer stood in the living room. "You're sister's car was in the lot," Lance said gravely.

Oliver shook his head. "She wasn't there."

"Oh, thank goodness," Moira sighed in relief.

Lance, though, in his typical fashion, raised an eyebrow. "And you know that how, Queen?"

"Her boyfriend, Roy. He met her there, and they went out."

Lance nodded. "That's Mr. Roy Harper, right? His car was there too."

"My driver dropped them off at the bus station." _Fuck_. Why hadn't he thought this through better?

"She's not answering her phone," his mother said, worry in her voice.

"I'm sure she'll call when she can," he said, placing his hand around her.

Lance's phone rang, and he excused himself.

Oliver led his mother to the couch, wishing the police would leave so he could ask her questions. He wanted to know if she thought Merlyn would do something this rash to get Thea.

When Lance strode back into the room, Oliver knew immediately something was wrong. "I have to go," he said tersely, and turned to leave. The other uniformed officer looked after him in confusion.

"Mr. Lance!" Oliver called, chasing after him. He had recognized the look in Lance's eyes. It was the look of a man who was suddenly afraid of losing everything. He grabbed his shoulder. "What is it? Is everything alright?"

Lance's eyes tightened. "No. But it's no concern of yours." He turned to leave.

"Wait," Oliver said. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he had a terrible feeling it was all connected.

"Laurel," Lance said shortly. "Laurel's friend Joanne was supposed to have dinner with her tonight, but when she showed up at her apartment, it looked like it had been broken into. I'm going there now."

Oliver's eyes widened. Most likely not a coincidence. "I won't keep you. Good luck."

Lance just tightened his lips, and then turned to hurry out the door.

Oliver wanted desperately to talk with Diggle and Felicity, to discuss what they thought was going on here. Because if Laurel had been taken too, there was no way it was a coincidence. Usually if something terrible befell anyone he knew, it could be traced directly back to him.

He suddenly remembered Slade teasing him as he looked at a picture of Laurel, a lifetime ago on Lian Yu.

It was another fifteen minutes before the second office left. As soon as he was gone, Oliver turned to his mother. "Listen, Mom, do you think there's any chance Merlyn would do something like this?"

"Like what?"

"Destroy the club . . . or try to take Thea?"

His mother's eyes widened. "Take her?"

He exhaled. "Someone tried to kidnap her. That's why she's with Roy, and not answering her phone."

"Malcolm Merlyn is capable of anything," she said fearfully.

Oliver nodded. "I have to go," he said.

She hugged him. "Be careful," she said, and he suddenly wondered if she suspected more than she let on about his night life.

He felt complete relief as he walked back out the front door and sprinted across the lawn. In less than ten minutes, he would finally be able to do something to find his sister. And he would do it with Felicity by his side.

It ended up only taking him eight minutes to get to her front door. He had pushed the bike that much. It was Digg who let him in, and he pointed silently to the bedroom. Oliver nodded his thanks, and strode toward her closed bedroom door.

She was sitting at the desk tucked in the corner, typing furiously at the keyboard. He stood there for a minute, just watching her. She had showered, cleaning the soot and ash off her face and hair, and changed into a plain blue button up shirt and jeans. Her hair was pulled back into a wavy pony tail and she peered over her glasses at the screen in front of her. He wondered how on earth he had gone nearly a year keeping her at arms length. After tonight the thought of all that wasted time made him ache. He had almost lost her. It was an absolute miracle that she was sitting there, just a few feet away, working her magic and tracking down his sister. He had faith that they would find her, because there was nothing Felicity couldn't do with a computer.

He stepped forward, and she jumped, obviously not having heard him come in. He started to apologize, but she held up a finger to her lips. She picked up a device from the desk and reached into his pocket. He raised a questioning eyebrow at her when she pulled out his phones—the one belonging to Oliver Queen and the one belonging to the Arrow. She ran the device over each of them. When it beeped, she pulled the case of each phone open, and extracted a chip from each phone. A bug, he realized, as she picked them up and carried them to the bathroom. She dropped them into the toilet and flushed, then leaned her shoulder against the door frame.

"It occurred to me that the blast at the foundry originated _in _the lair. Someone breeched our security there, and I thought maybe they breached everything."

"And you were right," he said, the sick feeling from earlier returning.

She nodded. "I found some traces in our system. He's been watching us for months."

He closed his eyes and exhaled. "Not Meryln?" But he already knew the answer.

She shook her head. "I traced the hack back to 1527 Alan Street."

He sighed. "Slade." She nodded, and then she was reaching for him.

God, he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her and just forget about everything else, even for a moment. But her cry of pain as he had pulled her to him the last time was still echoing in his mind. He put his hands on her hips, gently holding her away. "Where are you hurt?" He asked.

She let her head fall against his chest. "Just some burns, on my back."

He closed his eyes and took a breath, then gently turned her. He lifted her shirt, and saw four large gauze bandages covering her back. He ran his finger gently over the angry red skin peaking from the edges of the bandages.

"Too damn close," he ground out, lowering her shirt and turning her to face him again.

She nodded. "Yeah, way to close."

He held her face in his hands, but this time he didn't have the gloves on and he could feel her soft warm skin under his fingertips. She tilted her chin up and looked up at him searching his eyes.

"Felicity . . . " He felt the need to tell her how he felt, because he had come _so damn close_ to losing her tonight . . . to losing her without ever telling her how much he cared about her. "Felicity, I . . ."

But she stopped him, reaching up and placing a finger across his lips. "No, Oliver." He froze in confusion. "You don't get to make life altering declarations after near-death situations," she clarified. "It can't be healthy. I don't want you to say something now you'll regret later."

He started to argue, but then she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, and he kissed her back with all the desperation borne from those moments when he had thought she was buried and burning under the rubble of the foundry.

When they finally separated, she took a steadying breath and again laid her head on his chest. "Okayyyyy," she said on exhale. "Back to work."

She stepped around him, back to her computer, and pulled up a screen. "This is the car they put Thea in. I used traffic cam footage to trace it to Adams and Grand." She clicked and pulled up a map with a three block radius outlined in red. "This is an area of the Glades where there isn't any traffic cam coverage, and here's where we lost them. I've dug through the rest of the footage with a similar timestamp along the perimeter, and the vehicle hasn't re-emerged, so it's probably still there."

"That's where they took her."

"Maybe," Felicity agreed.

"Can you pull up any footage from in front of Laurel's building?"

Felicity looked up at him, eyebrows raised in confusion, before turning back to the computer.

"Her father was at my house when he got a call. She's missing."

"You think he took her too?"

He nodded. "I used to carry her picture, on the island. He said one day it would get me killed."

"Oliver, look," she said, gesturing to the screen. The same black sedan that she had tagged in the footage earlier was now shown in front of Laurel's building. The time stamp read early afternoon. "Oh no . . ." Felicity said as they watched two men drag Laurel to the car. "Those are the same two who came to Verdant." She started pulling traffic cam footage again, and he figured she was going to trace this car as she traced the last one.

An unexpected knock at the door had his head flying up. He looked down at Felicity, and she shook her head with wide eyes. She wasn't expecting anyone. "Stay here," he said, and moved quickly to the living room. Digg was already positioned beside the door, gun drawn. Roy stood in the center of the room, hands fisted as he worked to control his breathing. Oliver moved to the other side of the door, then nodded at Diggle, who moved slowly to look through the peep hole.

"Holy shit," Digg breathed.

He stepped aside, motioning for Oliver to look.

Oliver looked through the peephole, and was shocked to see Malcolm Merlyn standing on the other side a blue baseball cap pulled low over his eyes.

_AN: Sorry/Not Sorry for another cliff hanger. This one isn't nearly as bad as the last, RIGHT? You didn't really think I would kill off our girl, did you? I would never do such a thing._


	14. Strategy

Chapter 14 – Strategy

Oliver met Diggle's eyes as he looked away from the peephole, jaw clenched. Digg nodded, understanding that Oliver wanted him to cover their new visitor. He moved to Oliver's other side stepping away from the door. Oliver looked at Roy, who also nodded and stepped slightly in their direction. His fists and jaw were both tensed, and Digg assumed he was working hard to keep his tenuous grip on his rage in check. Then Oliver swung the door wide open. "What do you want, Merlyn?"

Malcolm Merlyn raised his dark eyes and took in the three men before him. His eyes finally settled on John. "Come now, Mr. Diggle, that gun didn't really do you any good the last time we met."

Digg clenched his jaw. He really didn't like this. "I like to be prepared."

"What do you want?" Oliver repeated again, sounding like his patience was gone.

Merlyn stepped forward and Oliver closed the door behind him, careful not to take his eyes of the older man.

"Thea is in trouble." Merlyn said it as a statement, not a question.

"That's not your concern." Oliver was brusque as he leveled a hard gaze at his enemy.

"She's my daughter."

"Not in the ways that matter."

Merlyn, who had been surveying Felicity's apartment, turned and met Oliver's eyes. "Are you telling me you don't need all the help you can get getting her and Laurel back?"

"How do you know these things?"

"I have plenty of people who keep their eyes and ears open for me."

Oliver tensed visibly at that, and Digg could tell what he was thinking before he said it. "Like Isabel Rochev."

"I am sorry about that, but it was a means to an end."

Felicity came out of her bedroom then. "Guys, I think I found out. . ." she trailed off, eyes widening as she took in the sight before her. "_You_."

Malcom Merlyn had the audacity to smile. "Ms. Smoak, I presume."

She looked at Roy. "It's not usually like this," she said to him, as if in explaination. "I don't usually almost get blown up and then have the guy who had me kidnapped show up at my apartment. And _jeez, _add that to the list of things I'd never say." Roy chuckled, and his fists loosened slightly. He crossed his arms over his chest and turned his eyes back to Merlyn.

They were all watching Oliver now, waiting for him to decide what was next. Oliver looked to Felicity, then Digg, then Roy. Finally, his eyes met Merlyn's again. "Are you saying you are here to help?" Merlyn nodded his head, saying nothing. "And why should we believe you."

"Because she's my daughter, and I want her safe."

Oliver's jaw tightened again. "You didn't care about keeping Tommy _safe_. He died because of you!"

Surprisingly, Merlyn closed his eyes at the words, a look of pain crossing his features. "My punishment for thinking I could fix a city by killing hundreds is knowing that I also killed Tommy, and that my wife will never forgive me for that."

Digg was surprised—he wasn't sure what sort of response he had been expecting, but that wasn't it.

Oliver looked at him again, and nodded. Diggle didn't like this. "Oliver . . . ."

"We need him, John," Oliver said quietly. Digg sighed, holstering his weapon.

"So, anyway," Felicity said. "I think I know where they are. Can you give us a moment?" She asked, looking at Merlyn.

Oliver looked at Roy again, who nodded at Oliver's unspoken command to keep an eye on Merlyn. Diggle was impressed—the kid was doing well with everything so far.

Diggle and Oliver followed Felicity into her bedroom. She was immediately whirling to face Oliver. "Are you sure about this?"

He nodded. "My mother said he was interested only in Thea. I think he'll help us get her back safely. And we're going to need all the help we can get, especially with Laurel involved too."

It occurred to Diggle that this was the second time Laurel had been mentioned. He hadn't paid much attention to that. "Laurel?" He asked in confusion.

Oliver's phone rang—the Arrow one, and he glanced at it. "It's Lance," he said, stepping away from them.

Felicity looked to Diggle. "Laurel is missing. Oliver thinks Slade has her too."

Diggle searched her face, expecting to see _something _there. The thought that Laurel was involved made him nervous, because Oliver always seemed to have a singular purpose when she was involved. But Felicity just looked worried and tired. He didn't understand how she couldn't feel something—jealousy or uncertainty, _something_—knowing that Laurel Lance was now being brought in to this.

Oliver rejoined them. "He was just asking for help. I'm going to meet him at the usual spot in an hour." He looked at Felicity. "What do you have?"

"I'm pretty sure I have a location."

"How sure?" Diggle asked.

"Ninety-nine percent, based on the routes the kidnappers took and the history of the building."

Oliver nodded, glancing at his watch. "That's enough for me. It's almost three am now. If we want to move on them tonight, we need to do it right after I meet Lance, or we lose the cover of darkness."

Diggle nodded. "It's better than leaving them there longer. No telling what is happening." Another thought occurred to him. "What about Sara?" If they needed all the help they could get, it only made sense to call her. Laurel was, after all, her sister.

Oliver nodded. "Lance wanted me to call her, too. I think she's close." He stepped away again, and made the call.

"She should be here within the hour," he said, moving back in.

"Are we including Lance in this?" Digg asked, feeling the need to clarify.

"I don't see how we can keep him out."

Felicity reached out to touch Oliver's wrist. "You realize he may figure out . . ."

He nodded. "A risk I'm willing to take," he said. He turned his eyes back to Diggle. "How is Roy handling all of this?"

"Surprisingly well," Diggle said. "I think he'll be okay in the field. He has to work it, hard, to stay in control, but he's managing. I think having Thea involved will keep him focused."

Oliver nodded. He scrubbed his hand over his face, looking between them. "Okay, let's go make a plan."

They stepped out into the living room, settling around Felicity's small table. She pulled out her tablet and pulled up an aerial of the neighborhood. "The kidnappers entered this neighborhood here and here," she said, pointing. "This building is abandoned, and changed ownership three months ago, which makes it the most probable location for where Slade is holding Thea and Laurel."

Diggle looked at Oliver. "We have to assume he is going to be expecting us. He's been watching us for a long time, Oliver. Felicity found a bug in her apartment, and in all of our phones, including Roy's. She thinks the lair, and maybe even your place, have been bugged for months."

"So he knows we'll find him quickly," Oliver said. "He'll be familiar with Felicity's abilities. He'll be expecting us. We can only hope he won't be expecting _all _of us."

Felicity placed a handful of comm pieces on the table. "They hacked our transmission earlier. Whoever they have working with them is _good_. I've put a couple of additional protections in place, but I can't do much from here. It might be different if I had our systems at the lair. Don't rely on these. I think they will be good for five, maybe ten minutes before they block them again."

Diggle didn't like that. "So we maintain radio silence until we breach. We need every one of those five minutes."

Oliver nodded. "We go in at a set time. No one jumps the gun, no one goes off half-cocked." He leveled his gaze at Roy. Roy raised his hands, nodding. "Good," Oliver said.

Felicity pulled up a blueprint of the building on her tablet and placed it in front of them, allowing the men to study it. The discussed strategy in hushed tones. Eventually, Oliver pointed to the front door. "So I'll go in here. Roy, I want you with me. Diggle, you and Lance will keep any incoming hostiles off our back so we can deal with Slade. Merlyn, your main concern is getting Thea out and back to the vehicle. Sara will do the same for Laurel."

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. Diggle got up, leaving the others to strategize. He checked the peephole, then opened the door. "Sara," he said in greeting.

She gave him a half smile. "Hello, John."

"We're talking strategy, you are just in time." He opened the door wider, motioning her in.

She looked at Merlyn, and said something to Arabic in him. He responded in kind, and Diggle suspected it was some sort of League of Assassins greeting.

As they finished talking details, Oliver started spending more of his time watching Felicity. She had a laptop on the table, typing furiously. Digg suspected she was working on code to keep their comms secure for as long as possible. There was a chime on her computer, and she looked up to meet Oliver's eyes. "You need to leave in five to meet Lance."

Diggle saw a wild look come into his eyes, and he suddenly understood. The last time Oliver had headed out in the hood and left Felicity alone, she had nearly been blown up. Oliver opened his mouth to speak, but Felicity was already shaking her head. "No, Oliver. It's not happening."

Digg flashed a look to Roy, who stood up, beckoning Merlyn and Sara to follow him. They moved to the other side of the room. Sara watched them unabashedly though.

"I don't like the idea of you being alone," Oliver said softly.

"I don't like _any _of this," she said back, heatedly. "But you aren't going to make Diggle stay back to protect me—you guys need every single body there to make sure you _all _make it out safe. Especially with Merlyn involved. There is no _way_ John is doing anything other than watching your back."

Oliver's jaw tightened and he exhaled. "Felicity . . ."

"Slade was planning on me being dead," she said, bringing up the elephant in the room. Digg watched as Oliver closed his eyes at her words. "That had to be part of the motive in blowing up our base of operations. He probably has every resource he has waiting for you to come for Thea," she said. "I don't think he's going to have the time or energy to come after me again. At least not right now."

Oliver reached under the table, where no one but Diggle could see, and found her hand. "Has it been long enough yet?" He ground out.

Felicity squeezed his hand and shook her head. "Three hours hardly counts, Oliver."

"I won't regret it." Oliver said the words with absolute certainty. Diggle was lost now, he had no idea what they were talking about. He was pretty sure his friends had forgotten he was here.

Felicity let go of his hand. "You need to go," she said.

Oliver sighed, and stood. He looked at Diggle. "We'll meet here," he said, pointing to an intersection on the tablet. "At 4:10."

"Shouldn't you guys like, synchronize you watches or something?" Felicity chuckled.

Digg just raised an eyebrow.

Oliver grabbed his bag and threw Felicity one last long, heated glance, and Digg had to look away, because there was an entire lifetime of declarations and words written in his eyes—words that were for Felicity only. "I'll be back," he said softly to her.

"And I'll be waiting," she said with smile.

Oliver said a quick word to Sara and Roy, and was gone.

Xxx

Lance was waiting on the roof when the Arrow arrived. Oliver had spent the ride over on the bike focusing his mind on the task at hand, trying not to think of Felicity alone and unprotected in her apartment. Trying not to think about how close had already come to losing her. Now he had to compartmentalize, because he had told her he would come back. It was a promise he meant to keep.

"Detective," he said, using the voice modulator. Lance spun to face him.

"Did you contact Sara?" He asked.

Oliver nodded. "She will be there."

"You know where she is?"

"We have an idea, yes."

"I want to come." Oliver sighed, he was expecting nothing less, but it still was going to complicate things.

"There will be some things that may surprise you," Oliver said carefully. "You must remember to focus only on the objective—getting Laurel out." Getting _both_ of them out. "That's all the matters."

"What kind of surprises?" Lance asked, looking wary.

"All will reveal itself in time." Actually, he hoped it wouldn't. But things generally had a habit of working against him. "There will someone waiting for you here," he said, handing him a paper with an address. "A friend. You may recognize him."

"Who?"

"You'll see. He is an associate of Ms. Smoak's." Perhaps the detective would buy Felicity being the connection to Diggle, rather than himself. "The two of you will maintain the perimeter. Sara will get Laurel out."

"Do you know who has her?"

Oliver nodded. "An enemy?"

"Your enemy?" Lance asked in confusion.

"Also an enemy of Sara's," Oliver said slowly.

Lance nodded. "Anything else?"

Oliver handed him a comm link. "These may not work for long—they hacked our transmission earlier tonight. Keep radio silence until we breach. Everything begins at 4:10." They had less than a quarter of an hour to get to the warehouse and get in place.

Lance nodded, closing his hand over the ear piece. "Thank you," he said, and there was emotion in his voice.

Oliver couldn't help but feel guilty. All of this was happening because of him.

xxx

Felicity watched as Diggle, Sara, Roy, and Merlyn gathered at the door. "Sara," Digg said, "You drive with Merlyn. Presumably you both need to . . . change." Sara nodded. Felicity was glad someone would be keeping an eye on Merlyn—she still didn't trust him.

She pulled Sara aside, giving her a small tracker. Sara raised her eyebrow. "For Merlyn," Felicity clarified. "I don't trust him."

Sara smiled. "Good call," she said. Felicity tried to return her smile, but couldn't seem to get her face to work. There was too much at stake to smile. "He'll be okay," Sara said.

"It's not just him I'm worried about, you know." Felicity clarified. "We're all in this together, and it would be nice if everyone comes _out _of it together."

"There's always hope," Sara said.

Felicity nodded, but it didn't make her feel any better.

Diggle looked at his watch. "Time to roll," he said.

Felicity took a deep breath to steady herself. "Be safe," she said, opening the door for them. It was the only thing she could think to say. Digg pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead as he passed by.

Then they were gone, and she was alone. She pressed her hand over her mouth for a moment, willing herself to calm down. They would be okay. Digg and Oliver and Sara and Roy, they would all be okay. And they would save Thea and Laurel. They had to. Because she knew that if any of them were lost, Oliver would never recover. She took one more breath, and then pushed herself off the door. She walked to the desktop in her bedroom. There was work to be done.


End file.
